Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure what I was saying but it seemed right. I didn’t want to worry about what she was feeling for me or what I was feeling for her. I liked her—that was enough. I wanted to hang out with her. I wanted to taste her cooking. And at some point—like every minute I was with her—I wanted to get her naked.
“You know what’s good to empty your mind?” I asked.
She gave me a sideways glance. “Kissing?”
I slid my arms around her waist and buried myself into her neck. “Yup. Very relaxing.”
She let go of the rolling pin and swiveled to face me. “Show me.”
“Wait,” I said, as she grabbed my arse. “Did you just surreptitiously dry your hands on my bottom and pretend you were feeling me up?”
She tried to bite back a smile. “You know all my secrets.”
I didn’t, but I wanted to. I dipped my head and pressed a kiss to her lips, tension easing from my muscles as I did. I hadn’t been lying, at least from my perspective—kissing Hollie was like meditation. And it was addictive.
Her breathy sighs made me want to get closer to her, and I pressed my hand into her back, drawing us together.
“Do you have anything in the oven? Anything likely to burn that I’m going to get the blame for?” I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes sleepy with desire. “Nope. Wanna meet the band?”
I chuckled and lifted her up and over my shoulder. “I just hope there’s a French horn player. A brass band is nothing without a French horn.”
I strode out of the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom, where I tipped her onto my bed.
“Wow. This bedroom is ridiculous.”
I glanced over my shoulder before grabbing Hollie’s hips and pulling her to the edge of the bed.
“It’s got an entire living room in it. Two sofas and—Our entire trailer isn’t as big as just this one room.”
I pulled her top from her jeans and dragged it over her head. I inhaled as I took in her smooth, creamy skin. I wanted to rip her bra off but knew I had to be patient.
“Are you the richest man in England?” she asked as if it were a serious question.
“Don’t be crazy,” I said, unfastening her jeans. She wiggled, helping me as I peeled them off her. I took a step back as she lay on my bed in her underwear. “But I feel like the luckiest.”
She groaned. “Cheese alert!”
“Is it cheesy if it’s true?” I asked. I crawled over her and stole a kiss.
“Absolutely,” she replied, her fingers undoing the buttons on my shirt. “Especially if it’s pre-sex. It sounds like you’re persuading me to get naked. And I don’t need persuading. Not by you.”
“Oh yes,” I replied, kneeling as I stripped off my open shirt. “The band.” I hooked my thumbs into her underwear and pulled them down. “Now, where are they?”
“They are quite small. You might have to look really hard.”
I chuckled. I don’t think even Tristan made me laugh as often as Hollie did. I kneeled on the floor, my thumbs pressed against her hips, my eyes level with her pussy. “Nope, can’t see a thing. I hope you weren’t lying, Hollie. I’ll be very disappointed if I don’t get a warm welcome.”
She moaned and her hips shifted. “Closer. You have to look very close,” she whispered.
I don’t know who I was torturing more—her or me. I wanted to taste her more than I wanted most things, but knowing she wanted me? Knowing she was wet just at the thought of my tongue on her was doing things to my cock that felt illegal but oh-so-good.
“Still nothing,” I said, the edges of my lips almost touching hers, my breath warming her skin.
She moved her legs a fraction, rubbing the inside of her thigh against my jaw. She moaned. I was toast. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pressed my tongue over her clit and almost dissolved at the warm slide of her.
Her fingers in my hair urged me on, and all I wanted to do was make her happy, make her come, show her that what we were doing wasn’t banging, whether or not I was her boss. I circled over and over, one way and then the other, feeling her clit unfurl beneath me. I pressed hard and began to flick up and down, reaching up for her hands, linking her fingers with mine. She fought me a little—no doubt unwilling to relinquish control. But I wanted to touch her, make her come—I just wanted her to lie back and enjoy it. From what I could read between the lines of how she described her life back in Oregon, she was all too used to taking responsibility and looking after people, all while feeling like an outsider. I wanted her to see how she could relax with me, how she belonged under my tongue.