Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
He doesn’t need to.
I can’t pull my eyes off him, and honestly, I don’t want to.
I know how dangerous this is.
Lion really is the best analogy when this man could swallow me whole in so many ways, equally wonderful and devastating.
I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I hope it’s more than words, even as my brain protests.
Oh, but he’s leaning forward, his weight eclipsing me.
I close my eyes, tilting my chin up in anticipation, this fever overwhelming me.
I can’t think.
I just feel as strong, searching arms wind around my back.
The next time I inhale, breathing him in, I open my eyes. Looks like I’m sandwiched between the back of the couch and Brock’s huge chest.
His nostrils flare.
His eyes flash like gas flames.
Then his mouth falls on mine and I’m so flipping gone.
Deliciously wrecked.
The way he rasps against my tongue tastes that much sweeter because it’s so reckless, so wrong, so taboo.
Every forbidden kiss I’ve dreamed about since Lanai happens in the span of a minute.
His tongue chases mine until I squirm.
He gives up another growl and I moan into his mouth.
“Fuck, Piper Renee. Do you have any clue?” he whispers, pulling away and pressing his hot forehead to mine.
“W-what?”
“All the shit you do to me. How many nights I couldn’t sleep. How often I had to wake the fuck up and stroke myself off, thinking about the ways I didn’t get to savage you in Hawaii. Do you know how many times I came in this hand?” He pauses, breathing flames against my lips, holding up his huge, clenched hand.
Oh my God.
“Woman, if you hadn’t come back to me, I would have hunted you down,” he whispers darkly.
I’m breathless.
I can’t remember who or what I am until he breaks my trance with another feral kiss. This time, his teeth seize my bottom lip, pulling with enough excitement to bruise.
I don’t care.
I want this sting.
I want him to demolish me as my hands twine through his sandy-dark hair, digging at his scalp just like I did when we kissed under a starry night sky.
No stars here except our own in this office, but God they’re so bright.
He clings to me tighter without breaking the kiss before he pulls away.
I need a few seconds before I open my eyes and see—
No.
Not that.
Not yet.
Please.
The heavy, stricken look on his face scares me.
Like there’s this gravity holding him back, telling him this is wrong, and he’d better stop before we both make a mistake we’ll never take back.
I scratch at his hair, desperately trying to move him closer.
His lip curls faintly.
He likes that I’m dying for him.
“Brock,” I whisper, sliding my foot up his leg as he dips his head again and storms my mouth.
Now, we’re in the moment.
No longer beholden to anything except this searing lust.
No rules, no demands, just his greedy tongue tracing the shape of my mouth and moving in hot rushes. Then the sweep of his hands up my legs, pulling them apart, slipping down where he stops at my panties.
“Fucking shit,” he rasps, almost choked. “I want to take this. I want this hot little pussy wrapped around every inch of me. I want to—”
His phone goes off as loudly as if someone just chucked an armed grenade into the room.
I jump back and slide toward the other end of the couch, fixing my clothes as he lurches up like it hurts him and stomps over to his desk.
I can’t look away, though, and he’s still holding my gaze as he snatches it up and then glares at the screen.
He makes no effort to answer.
Holy hell.
If there was ever a cue that it’s time to go...
I really should.
Get out of here while I still can, but I’m breathing too hard to speak, much less stand.
He’s still staring at his phone with a grimace. I don’t know if it’s something on the screen that’s upsetting him or the fact that I’m still here.
Once I’ve refilled the air in my lungs, I say, “Brock—um, Mr. Winthrope—I should go.” I turn my back, moving as briskly as I can without breaking into a full run. “I’ll have more for you tomorrow! I mean—not more of this, but more work.”
“You turn into a pumpkin at midnight or what?” he growls behind me.
“No. But you might turn into a bosshole when you come to your senses.” I don’t mean it. It’s hard to even get the words out.
He snorts, but gives nothing back.
My legs are jelly.
I’m having a hard time walking as I head for the elevator.
What did he say earlier about leaving this late? Something about a driver?
But I’m still reeling and stupid after that kiss.
God, how was it better than the first time when I tumbled into his arms?
I’ll just take an Uber home.
I need to get out of here ASAP.