Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“You are mine. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
ten
gavin
“Sweet Jesus,” I groan when I make it back to the pool. I had seen the bikini that Casey wore before I left. I even took the time to admire it. Yet, now coming back from changing and grabbing us a bottle of wine and some glasses, I’m standing by the door blown the hell away. She’s been in the pool and when she stands up the water drips down and slides along her body. That’s enough to make a man beg of course, but damn if the whole package isn’t so fucking amazing that I stop breathing, afraid that anything might make the moment end.
“What?” she asks, looking alarmed. It’s obvious she has no idea the effect her body has on a man.
Her curves should be marked with warning signs. Instead they’re hugged by the sexiest purple and teal bikini I’ve ever seen. There are two thin strips of purple fabric which travel down to the teal and lavender paisley blocked bikini top and does its best to hide her breasts from me, but instead teases me with cleavage and flesh that refuses to be fully contained. Her hips are hidden in the water, but I know the view there would be just as amazing.
“I was thanking my creator that you chose to wear a bikini, Moth-girl.”
She studies my face for a moment and then I can see her relax. Her body broadcasts it, almost as much as the smile on her face.
“Are you finding religion on me?”
“Sweetheart, I’d worship at any altar that had you on it,” I tell her, placing a couple of towels down on a lounge chair and putting the wine and glasses in easy reach from the pool. Then, I get into the water with her. I make a beeline for her, as if she was a magnet and I the metal. Her pull is that strong.
“Are you ever serious, Gavin?”
“I may joke, Casey, but it doesn’t mean my words aren’t utterly truthful. Trust me when I tell you, I’m completely serious about anything that has to do with you.”
“But then, you don’t know me—not really,” she answers, and it’s like she’s watching my face closely. I’ve come on too strong with her from the beginning, but I can’t seem to make myself be any other way—not when she’s involved.
“Isn’t that the purpose of dating?” I ask, unable to stop my hands from finding her hip in the water and pulling her body into me.
“I don’t think you want to date me as much as you want to…”
My fingers breach the waistband of her bikini. I don’t move them between her legs like I want. I keep them there, slowly brushing her soft skin in a back and forth motion, through the water.
“As much as I want to fuck you?” I whisper against her pulse, which is jumping along the side of her neck. I’m drawn to that particular spot once more. I flatten my tongue out and lick against it tasting her. The pool has diluted something that is uniquely Casey and I mourn its loss.
I’ll have to search her body until I find it again.
“That’s what I mean. You only have your mind on sex, not on getting to know me, Gavin,” she responds.
As much as she’s censuring me with her reply, she bends her neck so her head rolls back, giving me more room. Her body trembles against me and as she says my name her voice breaks off into what can only be described as a sigh of pleasure. She wants me. For whatever reason, I think she feels like she shouldn’t want me and maybe that is because it’s so soon. I can work with that, wear her down. I have to, because there’s no way I’m not claiming her tonight. There’s no way I’m letting her leave this house until she’s mine.
I need to slow down a bit. I don’t want her running away. I can’t allow her to do that, even if I have to chain her to my bed—and that thought holds definite promise.
eleven
casey
I’m a moron. The hottest, sexiest man I’ve ever met in in my life is trying to seduce me and I keep finding ways to stop him.
I’m a complete moron.
“You’re a hard woman, Moth-girl,” he sighs against my skin as he pulls away from me. I want to cry out from the loss of him, which is further proof I am in fact a moron. I watch as he walks away, the water splashing around him, moving in an erotic way that makes it impossible for me to look away. I try to control my breathing—and my hormones—as he picks up the wine he placed near the edge of the pool earlier. I jump as he pops the top off of the bottle.