Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
His kiss is like fire, his lips hot and demanding, his tongue strong and commanding. He takes my jaw in his palms and kisses me harder, sending an overwhelming need sweeping through my body.
I reach around and cup his ass, groaning when I feel his erection.
I want this.
I need this.
The throbbing between my legs pounds relentlessly, and my hips seek out his, searching for the rigid outline of his cock because I need friction, goddammit.
He shoves my hands above my head and holds them there with one hand while the other hooks under my leg and lifts it high so he can step in between. He presses the rigid outline of his erection into me, and I almost come from the contact alone.
I gasp in his mouth and grind against him, and he groans, and it’s a primal rumble that only fans the flame.
His lips find my shoulder. My neck. And travel up to the soft spot below my ear.
My breath hitches.
He grinds against me, and I begin to pant.
His hands roam my body, setting it ablaze.
His lips find my mouth again, and his kiss is fierce. His hand slides between us and rips open my jeans, popping the button and breaking the zip. He slips his fingers beneath my panties, and I tremble when they brush past my clit and slide inside me.
“You like getting me worked up until I fuck you with my fingers against the wall.” He groans into my shoulder. “You’re so damn wet.”
I’m not just wet. I’m sopping wet.
His fingers rub my clit in maddening circles before sliding inside me, then come back around to torture my clit again.
I’m a hot mess against the wall.
I hate him.
I really do.
But right now, I want to come more than I want to hate him.
And why shouldn’t I?
He owes me this much.
I moan. “Oh...”
He rubs my clit faster. Thrusts his fingers deeper. Grinds his palm harder. And I unravel like a ribbon against the wall, clinging to him as days of pent-up emotion burst out of me, and I cry out his name as wave after wave streams through me, turning my bones to liquid.
I sag against the wall and struggle for breath.
I need him inside me.
I reach for his zipper, but he stops me. Our eyes meet, and I don’t see lust in them. I see only darkness.
His fingers circle my wrist. “No,” he growls.
I’m still high on a heady mix of afterglow and an eager anticipation for more, but the tone in his voice cuts through the blissful haze. It’s cold and hard. Emotionless.
I frown. “I don’t understand.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. “This is the last time we touch. I will make sure nothing like this happens again.”
Suddenly cold and clammy, I pull my hand free from his grasp. “Then what was that?”
Did he just give me some kind of revenge orgasm?
“That was goodbye.” He couldn’t sound or look more cold if he tried. “You and I are done, Miss Masters.”
Hurt soars through me.
And I feel stupid.
Stupid for letting him touch me.
Stupid for not wanting it to stop.
He did this to hurt me.
No, he did this as payback for me leaving.
He’ll say it’s because of my meeting with the FBI, but I don’t think that’s what upsets him the most. I think my leaving gave him the bullet, and he just fired the gun.
He’s trying to hurt me because I hurt him.
No, to hurt him, he’d have to have feelings.
I shove him in the chest. “You jerk.”
I hope he’s proud of himself.
But there isn’t a look of amusement or delight on his face. No, his face is dark and stormy like he’s too angry to enjoy this.
I move away from him before he can see my tears. Because I refuse to give this man any more of my tears. Any more of anything.
Feeling petulant and unhospitable, I cross my arms and set my jaw. “So this is how it’s going to be? I’m your prisoner in this big cold house, and you’re just going to ignore me?”
The look he gives me is ice cold. A stark contrast to the heated lust mere minutes ago.
“Call it what you will. But from now on, Miss Masters, you are nothing more to me than the woman carrying my baby.”
30
LEV
I watch Brooke make for the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you, or haven’t you filled your quota for being an asshole yet?”
I take a seat behind my desk. “Don’t tempt me. I’m sure I could think of a few more things to say.”
She huffs out a breath. “If you must know, I’m going anywhere you’re not.”
“Just a reminder that there is no point running. My men know to detain you.”
“Do they know I’m pregnant too?” she snaps. “Or have they been instructed to stop me no holds barred?”