Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
It had been a long time since I’d spent hours on end with just one person, getting to know them, letting them get to know me, feeling a mutual attraction build, giving it room to breathe, testing its limits, sharing a first kiss.
And a second.
And a third.
Recalling the sensation of his mouth on my skin, the firm softness of his lips contrasted with the abrasive rub of his beard, that delicious tug on my nipples . . . I rolled onto my stomach, moaning softly into my pillow. Why did the guy assigned to protect me also have to turn me on so much? It was so unfair.
And yet, if I was honest, I had to admit that part of his appeal was that he was good at his job. For all the things I didn’t like about him—and there were plenty of them—I did feel secure in his presence.
But I also felt sexy. Desirable. Wanted.
Me. The real me—Kelly Jo Sullivan.
The door to the house opened and closed. A moment later, I heard Xander’s slow, heavy footsteps in the hall. He went into the bathroom. The faucet came on.
Was he thinking about me? Was he angry with himself? Did he regret putting the brakes on? The bathroom door opened and I listened for his footsteps thudding back down the hall again. But I didn’t hear them. Just silence.
I propped myself up on one elbow, holding my breath. Was he on the other side of my door? Wondering if he should knock?
Knock, I thought. Knock, you big lummox.
A full ten seconds went by, my heart hammering wildly.
Then I heard the slow thump of his boots on the wood floor as he walked away. Flopping onto the pillow again, I frowned. Damn him for rejecting me! Didn’t he understand how lonely I was? How long it had been since anyone had kissed me or touched me? How hard it was for me to be this vulnerable with someone?
If I was any other girl, I could just meet a handsome stranger and enjoy a sexy little vacation fling without worrying that he’d sell his story to the tabloids. Instead, I was me, stuck sharing this one-bedroom cabin in the middle of nowhere with a smoking hot guy I actually thought I could trust not to betray me, only he wouldn’t come near the bed.
And he’d wanted me too. I knew that he had.
I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, remembering in vivid detail the way I’d climbed onto his lap, feeling him hard and thick beneath me. I recalled the scent of him—tinged with smoke and fire—and the exhilaration of that moment when he’d grabbed my head and crushed his lips to mine.
Those strong hands on my hips, moving my body over his. His tongue in my mouth. The tingling warmth between my legs. Feeling it start to hum, again I slipped my hand into my underwear. As I moved my fingertips over my swollen clit, I pictured Xander out there in the living room, sliding his hand into his pants.
Behind my eyelids, I saw a huge fist working up and down a mammoth cock in the dark, the flexing abs, the quickened breath, the struggle to be fast and silent. The electric current surging through him, gathering heat and strength. That sensation of pressure rising and rising, until it couldn’t be contained and came bursting forth in hot little pulses that would leave him sweaty and sticky and stifling a groan.
Fuck you, Xander, I thought as I took myself there while I fantasized about him jerking off. Fuck you so hard. As the throbbing between my legs subsided, I rolled onto my stomach, trying to smother my loud breathing.
And I wondered if he actually was out there on the couch, doing the same thing.
TEN
xander
Of course I was.
ELEVEN
kelly
The following day, I stepped out onto the front porch around ten a.m., both hands wrapped around a mug full of hot coffee. “Morning.”
Xander looked up at me from where he sat in his usual rocking chair on the front porch, laptop open, cup of coffee in his hand. His dark hair was messy, making him look more rugged than usual, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, like maybe he hadn’t slept well.
“Morning,” he said.
Still in my pajamas, I crossed in front of him and lowered myself into the other chair, crisscrossing my legs pretzel-style.
“You sleep okay?” he asked.
“Like a baby,” I lied. I’d actually been pretty restless all night. “How’s the couch treating you?”
“Fine,” he said, taking a long sip of coffee. “It’s fine.”
I brought my cup to my lips and wondered if he was thinking about the empty spot next to me in the bed, and how it could have been his last night. “Thanks for making coffee.”
“I was up early. Decided to make myself useful.”