Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 153935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Once we’re upstairs and inside her apartment, I look around the place. Her décor is a weird mashup of cat posters and artsy images of sculpture parks.
“Would you like a glass of wine or are you happy gawking at how the little people live?” she asks.
I glance at the bottles on the counter, perched in a corner.
“How about something stronger? Bourbon?”
“That’s Paige’s stuff, and from the label, it looks expensive.”
“Paige?”
“My roommate.”
I take out a fifty and throw it on the counter. “Paige can have a whole new bottle as long as I get to drink from that one.”
She laughs. “I still feel like making you drink cheap wine just to prove the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mag.”
She pours her wine into a dainty glass.
“I’ll be less demanding with bourbon,” I tell her, clenching my teeth.
She takes out a glass four times the size of a shot, fills it, and hands it to me.
I can’t blame the liquor because I haven’t taken a drink yet, but the way that innocent, beautiful woman looks at me makes my blood roar.
Forget the airline talk.
I’m already in full flight, and it’s not just a bad fucking pun.
My entire body tingles below my waistline. It isn’t the bourbon I want. Seeing her with that college prick made me regret walking away after our stolen kiss in the Phoenix sunset.
Her chest rises and falls, and with each breath, her breasts bubble up against her crimson neckline and flutter down. Calling me. Taunting me.
They bob against her neckline again like they’re aching to be free.
My dick hurts, spiking this physical ache through my whole system, like a man deprived of what he needs most when it’s right in front of him.
I’m done with this torture.
Setting the glass on the counter, I close the space between us, dropping an arm around her waist. I steal her wine glass away with my other hand, and then before she knows what’s happening, I press my lips to hers so hard she moans, melting in my arms.
Fuck.
She tastes like cinnamon and red wine and everything I shouldn’t want.
Of course she does.
What little prayer I ever had of pulling away goes unanswered the second her leg winds around mine. Brina’s tongue flicks against my bottom lip.
A low, animal noise falls out of me like approaching thunder.
Snarling, I trace my finger over her neckline, just enough pressure to ease her top down.
I’ve developed a sudden hatred for her red dress when it’s concealing everything I want to ravage.
Thankfully, I don’t have to push much against the strained cloth to release one plump, warm tit into my palm, her nipple perked against my hand.
I break the kiss, suck in a harsh breath, and chuckle with lust.
“No bra?” I growl, drawing a circle around the edge of her areola, bringing my finger in closer until I’m brushing against her nipple.
“Oh,” she moans, her shoulders rolling with this seductive little hiss. “Mag.”
Sweet fuck.
The way she whimpers my name says she already wants this as bad as I do.
I can’t wait to get my tongue inside her, to fling her legs apart, throw her against the wall, and eat her delicate pussy until she’s nothing but a wet, simmering mess of pleasure.
She draws in a breath, then moves her lips back against mine. My tongue sweeps inside her mouth, desperate for another taste of her, but she tilts her head back, chin up.
So she wants to play hard to get? Happy to oblige.
I push my face forward, kissing down her neck, adding a stinging nip of teeth at the cusp of her cleavage.
She falls back, and I pull her forward in my arms, holding her up as her knees weaken. Then I take that rosy nipple in my mouth and make her sing.
Soft, almost lyrical need floods the room, echoing off the walls, igniting new fires in my blood.
Her hand flies into my hair, her fingernails rake my scalp, already begging for every hot, bestial thing on my grand list of fuckery. A list I’ve etched in stone only for Sabrina Bristol.
The leg around my hip tightens, and her other leg tucks behind my ankle.
Shit.
My cock jerks, lurching against my zipper, screaming to be deep inside her, wrapped up in shuddering curls of this woman driven to rapture.
Growling, I pick her up, grinding her warmth over my hard length, making her feel every seething inch of me.
Goddamn.
I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve been starved for ages. I’m barely even human as every potent kiss makes me want to shear off her clothes, flip her over, and fuck her until her eyes roll white.
I blink my eyes open and spot a couch. With our lips still locked, I fling her up in my arms and carry her across the room.
Her lithe body bounces against the sofa as I lay her down and stretch over her, careful to keep my weight off of her as my fingers fly below my belt to my zipper.