Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Her dark lashes lower as she whispers, “I don’t like this game, Tyler.”
I don’t even hesitate. I cup her face and when her eyes meet mine again, all I can think is “mine.” I want her to be mine, but all I say is, “It’s not a game.”
She rejects this idea as readily as logic says I should but cannot. “You have obligations and I’m your—”
I press inside her. She moans as I slide into the heat of her body, the snug squeeze of her muscles drawing me in deep. “You are so hard,” she pants.
“Glad you noticed,” I reply, squeezing her sweet little ass and arching her hips, lifting her onto me and finding that perfect, sweet tight spot that I’m going to want to find over and over until I come. “And I’m so fucking hard,” I add, “because I’ve been thinking about laying you across my lap and spanking you.”
I ease back and thrust hard into her, and yeah, oh, yeah, I find that spot again.
That’s when she stops fighting the moment and decides to live inside it instead. I see it in the parting of her lips and the pleasure etched on her pretty face. Feel it in the bite of her fingers against my flesh. I want to see more of her…all of her. I want to experience her in every possible way. I roll to my back and pull her on top of me.
Chapter Ten
Tyler
For a moment, I slip out of the memory, aware that Gavin is still talking. Aware when his cellphone rings. “I have to take this.”
Fuck yes, I think, my gaze returning to my window while my mind slips quickly back into the memory, trying to understand what it’s telling me...
It’s broad daylight and the sun illuminates her, and she is ridiculously hot. Too hot for my sanity, and I don’t even think about hiding that fact. I devour her with my eyes, letting her see the lust she stirs in me. She starts to move, riding me like a queen I swear, her breasts high and full, swaying with the rock of her hips. I enjoy the view, shift with her, lift my hips, watching the pleasure roll off her beautiful face. But I’ve never been a man to sit back and watch too long.
I sit up and cup her breasts, tugging on her nipples, only to swallow her moan with a kiss and a lick. Holy fuck, she tastes like everything I never wanted and everything I have to have.
I can’t get enough of her.
I drag her down against me, and her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging roughly, and fuck, I like it. The more I play with her nipples, the harder she presses her body against my cock, and the harder her body squeezes my shaft. The silky heat of her around me, with the tight grip of her sex, is heaven and hell. I am not going to last much longer. Now I catch her hair, giving it an erotic tug, and when I plan to turn her over and claim my control, again, she gasps and clings to me, her body trembling against me. That’s all the encouragement I need. I pull her down and thrust inside her, once, twice, I lose count, and then I shudder into release. It’s a hell of a release too, a full-body, rock-me-to-my-core kind of experience. When it’s over, I don’t want to let her go.
I don’t fucking want to let her go.
The idea rocks me to the core.
This is unfamiliar territory, this sense of being at another person’s mercy because they matter to you. It’s fucking scary as shit. I don’t like it and yet, I can’t deny it and I oddly don’t even want to try.
“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” I murmur, in no rush to pull out of her. Instead, I scoot off the bed, stand up, and carry her with me to the bathroom. When we’re all cleaned up, I settle her onto the edge of the counter and press my hands on either side of her, my mood shifting as reality starts to kick in, and it’s not a good place to be. It’s not the place I want to be with this particular woman, now or ever.
“Bella,” I murmur, my eyes meeting hers, and I don’t hide anything. I let her see the truth of what I feel when I let no one see anything but stone-cold me. “I don’t know what to do,” I confess. “I don’t want anything my father has forced on me.”
She swallows hard and presses a hand to my face, and I’m rocked by how much her touch affects me. “We’re friends who had a moment, Tyler.”
My anger bristles. “We’re not friends, Bella.”
She blanches as if I stabbed her with my words, and I react. My hands come down on her knees, expanding on my reaction. “I don’t like how that simplifies what is going on between us. But, yes, of course, we’re friends, and that’s what makes this different for me. ‘We’re friends’ is not a statement I make about anyone I fuck, Bella.”