Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“I’ll buy you the fucking store.”
I don’t get more than narrowed eyes as her mouth twists in contemplation, but then her shoulders drop, and she grins. “Okay. Do it,” she says, sounding a lot like she’s compromising.
With a smirk, the lace is shredded, causing her to laugh. “You’re wild, St. James.”
“Wild for you, Marché.”
Dragging her fingers through my hair, she says, “So cheesy.”
“I’ll give you that. It’s not my best work. You know what is?”
Her hand runs down the side of my face, and a finger then grazes over my bottom lip. “Don’t tell me. Show me.”
With my hands anchored to the wall on either side of her legs, I lean forward and lick her thigh, stopping just at the apex. Then I move higher, closer to where I know she wants me. Her hands just reach my shoulders until I’m high enough for her to rest her palms over my muscles.
Running my nose along her seam, I let her fill my senses, inhaling her deep into my lungs, covering my tastebuds in all that this woman will give me. Her moans fill my ears as her nails scrape my skin.
I stop, sitting back on my feet, and look up at this goddess before me. I thought I was ready to fuck her, but my thoughts changed like a song on an album, switching from fast to slow.
Questions fill her eyes, but I don’t want her to feel anything less than I’m feeling for her right now. I stand, bringing my jacket with me, and wrap it around her shoulders. “Jackson?” Her voice is so soft, but there’s no shame entwined.
“I want to make love to my girlfriend.” Taking hold of her hand, I lead her into the bedroom.
A bedside lamp is already on. I close the blinds because she once told me this is how she blocks out the world. Tonight, I want the same. When I turn back, she’s slipped off her bra and sits on top of the bed. She makes it so fucking hard to be good and not ravage her. But I control myself, and say, “Just you and me.”
“You said make love.” She slides under the covers.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I grin. “I did.”
“You said that earlier tonight, too. You said you wanted to stay home and make love to me.” I nod. She cocks an eyebrow while a restrained smirk belies the playful look in her eyes. “I never thought I’d hear Jackson St. James, former player of Manhattan, use terms like ‘make love’ instead of fuck.”
“I use the words that fit the situation.”
“Turning a new leaf.” She licks her lips, knowing exactly what she’s doing. The vixen.
I’d tell her that making love is just a gentler version of what we do already, but that would be a lie. Emotions are involved and growing exponentially with every day I get to spend with her. “I wouldn’t give me too much credit.”
“You never disappoint me. And as the benefactor of your actions and words in this bedroom, I like this new side of you.”
“As long as you don’t get sick of my other side.”
“Never.” She flips the covers open as an invitation. “Now hurry up. Get over here and make love to your girlfriend.”
She knows how to get me moving. I strip down and climb into bed next to her. We both settle in, lying next to one another and staring into each other’s eyes. The starter gun is shot when she smiles and then taps my wrist with her hand. We roll into each other’s arms, our lips finding purchase as our limbs tangle together.
I roll on top of her, kissing the curve of her neck. The deep-seated desire to mark this woman as mine is strong. I restrain myself in that way, but in others, I don’t. “I’m so fucking glad you’re on the pill.”
“You feel so good when you’re inside me.” She tilts her head into the pillow, and says, “I need you. Please. I need you to fill me again.”
I nudge her legs apart with mine and don’t waste time pushing inside her. Her warmth engulfs my whole body and soul. She’ll never understand how I’d sell my soul to the devil if I could stay here, just like this, forever.
The rush of losing myself in her becomes too much. I pull back, wanting to see her. When she opens her eyes, I slowly, so fucking slow, push back in. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulls me closer until we start kissing again.
As I taste her moans and we share our panting breaths, slowing down gives me the pleasure of enjoying the little things instead of racing to the finish line.
A small smile always comes after I kiss her behind her ear before it disappears, and her body seeks friction against mine.