Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Van takes in a deep breath before he goes on. “No one knew that I worked with Beth, Alyssa. Not even at the label. I was just…in the shadows. Of her career. Of her life, too. And when she finally blew up with a radio single, she left me right there in the shadows, like I’d never mattered at all. And it hurt like a fucking bitch.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Van—”
“It wouldn’t have hurt as much though,” he continues. “Not if I hadn’t let her get as close to me, not if I hadn’t let her in. After Beth, I learned that it’s so much easier to keep new people at arm’s length, especially gorgeous women who blow in from God-knows-where and seem like they’re going to be the second coming of Grace Slick.”
Van runs a hand through his hair, his eyes making their way back to mine. “Fuck, Alyssa Smith. Don’t you get it? You’re everything I’ve been trying to avoid, and here I am, running into you headfirst.”
“…Could you kiss me again?” I whisper the question. “I just…I just want to make sure that I…when you kissed me the first time, I just think there was something—”
“Are you sure that’s what you want, Alyssa?” he whispers right back. “Because there are some lines you can’t uncross, princess.”
“I know exactly what I want, Van Wilson,” I answer, closing the distance between us, soon pressing my lips against his. Van kisses me back with just as much fervor, his palms sliding down to my waist as he pushes me toward the edge of the mattress. I land against the bedsheets with a soft thud, Van positioning himself right over me, his chest now resting against mine.
“Is this a bad idea?” I whisper up at him.
And Van smirks down at me as he replies, “Oh, this is an awful idea, princess. Probably the worst one that either of us has ever had.”
“…I still want to do it, though.”
“Me, too,” he murmurs, before pressing his lips against the side of my neck, trailing soft kisses up and down my skin. It’s so much more intimate than I’d been expecting my first time with Van was going to be, for some reason assuming that he was much more of a push-me-against-the-wall-and-bend-me-over type.
But I’m pleasantly surprised to realize that the general tenderness in his songwriting is carrying over into the bedroom, too. I let out a soft moan underneath him, slightly adjusting my legs to give him more room between my thighs. Van seems to smirk at the motion, his fingers going down toward the underside of my T-shirt. A few seconds later and he’s lifting the fabric up and over my head, his eyes going right down toward my chest.
My cheeks go red as Van gently cups my bra with his palms, staring down at me with a long, adoring, unbroken gaze.
“Is this the part where you realize I’m not exactly a supermodel?” I wince after I speak, hoping that Van isn’t actually reevaluating our hookup in his head.
“No,” he replies. “This is the part where I realize how beautiful you are all over again.”
I open my mouth to say something in return, but my words are suddenly replaced by a moan as Van‘s thumbs run over my aching nipples. He then lowers his mouth toward my bra, his lips hovering over one of my nipples before he closes them around the fabric with the sensitive nub underneath.
“Van...” I groan. He lazily drags his tongue across my still-clothed nipple, his other hand idly twisting and tugging my other nipple between his fingers. My breath hitches in my throat when he suddenly lifts my bra up just enough for my breasts to spill out of it, his mouth and hand soon returning to their initial place against my hardened nipples.
“Fuck…Van...” I whimper for him again as he teases me with those slow fingers. Hot wetness pools between my thighs. He starts to press his hips against mine too, moving them in a tight circle as he playfully sucks my nipple between his lips, his cock growing harder and harder behind the zipper of his jeans.
“Van...” I plead with him, even though I’m not sure of exactly what I’m asking for. “Van...”
“Do you trust me?” Van whispers, his fingers still twisting my nipple, the sensation causing me to get so shamelessly wet for him that I worry when he does get around to pulling down my pants, he’s going to come face to face with an unexpected flood.
“Yes,” I answer, my words coming out breathless. “Yes, I trust you, Van.”
“Then hold on.” Van smiles down at me as his hand moves away from my chest. I try to look up to see where his hands are going, but by the time I’m able to get a glimpse of it, I can feel Van already pulling my wrists together. He ties my T-shirt around them both, now tugging the fabric into a tight knot.