Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
He’s talking about all the times my zipper on my jacket and even my prom dress got stuck and he fixed it for me. It’s that history between us that runs long and deep. I don’t want to think about that and all we could destroy by getting naked together. Because we’re getting naked together, no matter.
At this point, he has several buttons undone and he drags his shirt over his head, and the t-shirt under goes along with it. I wet my lips at the sight of muscle and man, with rippling, defined abs that have me all kinds of hot all over. Was I leaving? I think I was leaving. I’m no longer sure why I was leaving.
He steps into me and cups my face. My hands press to hit hot, hard body and his mouth closes over mine, his tongue sliding deep. I’m instantly drowning in the heat of the moment, suffocating in the flames of my own desire. Every lick is a stroke I feel in every part of me, low in my belly, deep in my sex, where I have wanted him forever.
Then we’re just like we were in that fraternity house bedroom, all the boundaries erased. My hands just want to touch every part of him I can touch. His hands are no different. My dress somehow is unzipped and down to my waist, and my bra is gone. His hands and eyes devour my breasts, and he murmurs something I don’t understand, and it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s this wild, out of body experience, where there’s no room for questions and inhibitions.
He drags my gown down my body and lifts me, tossing it aside, and then I’m on display for him, in nothing but thigh highs, panties, and strappy black heels. It’s the only time since we first entered the apartment that I’ve felt vulnerable and exposed. He squeezes my backside and drinks me in with hungry eyes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” he asks roughly. “I swear, it’s been since we were four and you kissed me in that closet.”
“You kissed me,” I correct, forgetting the nerves. They’re hard to hang on to with Damion. We just have so much history.
He smiles and leans in, his lips just above mine. “You kissed me, baby,” he says. “You’ve always been a tease that way.” His lips brush mine.
Baby.
He’s never called me any such thing, and it does all kinds of crazy things to my belly. “Not anymore,” I promise, leaning into him and pressing my naked breasts to his chest.
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” I say and bite back everything else that comes to mind. Like, I don’t know if I’ll see you again.
He produces a condom from I don’t know where and says, “You want to complete my fantasy, you need to put this on for me.”
“I’m on the pill,” I say, no idea where the boldness in me comes from. I’ve managed to have two men who were demanding. Bend here. Lay here. Squeeze me baby, kind of thing. There wasn’t much thinking to do on my end. “We don’t need the condom.”
I expect this to please him, and to my surprise, his hands leave my body and press to either side of me. “Who are you having sex with that isn’t me?”
I blanch, shocked by his reaction, although not that shocked. He’s always been weird with me and other guys, but he never stopped it from happening either. Which stirs an achy, angry sensation in my chest and belly. “No one, including you,” I retort and try to duck under his arm.
He catches my waist. “Why are you running away, Alana?”
“I’m not the one who runs away, Damion.”
“What does that even mean?” he challenges.
It means nothing, I think, because he’s not running from me. He walks away just fine. “This was a mistake.”
He cups my face and kisses me hard and fast but not fast enough to save me the impact of the connection. I’m already moaning with the taste and feel of him. I’m such a fool over the boy next door. “It’s not a mistake. I’ve never liked the idea of you with another guy,” he declares.
I’d snap back with something like “And yet left me to every other man,” but I never get the chance. His mouth is already on my mouth again, and he’s lifting my leg, and my resistance is all over from there. His fingers slide along the seam of my body, stroking the sensitive flesh there, and my sex is one big spasm of need.
“You’re really fucking wet,” he murmurs, and he reaches for his pants.
I reach for his pants too.
It’s a mad struggle, a frenzy of movement, to get where we have both wanted to be for so very long. Him inside me. And it happens, finally it happens. He presses inside me and I gasp. He laughs. “God, you feel good.” He drives deeper.