Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“It feels different. When you care about someone.”
Is he saying he cares about me? That I care about him? I’m not sure. I don’t have time to figure it out.
“Do you want to feel it or not?” His fingers brush my hair. My neck. The place where my cover-up meets my skin.
“As an experiment,” I say. “For the sake of science only.”
“If that’s what you want.”
It’s not, but it’s the only reasonable thing to do. It’s the last reasonable thing I can do. “Okay. One kiss. As an experiment.”
“A kiss like we mean it.”
“Let’s call it a make-out session.” I mean to say it with humor, but I stumble over the words. I’m awkward around him. When it comes to this. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s more than sex here. Because I know enough about sex. I don’t stumble with sex. Romance on the other hand…
“Do you want a safe word?”
“The word ‘no’ is fine.”
He nods, running his thumb over my cover-up. “How do I take this off?”
“Is that part of it?”
“Yes.”
“Like this.” I break our touch enough to pull the cover-up over my head.
“Are you sure about this, Deanna?”
My entire body buzzes. “No. But I want to try anyway.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Deanna
River runs his fingers along my neck. Then down my spine. A long, slow line to the strap of my bikini top, then over it, down my lower back, to the tops of my bikini bottoms.
He traces the line up again, only this time, he stops at the bikini top, and he undoes the strap.
He’s undressing me.
I should say wait or no or maybe this is a bad idea. Anything reasonable. But I’m out of reason.
And I don’t want to say no.
I want to feel every minute of this. All of it.
He pushes the straps off my shoulders.
The fabric falls at my feet.
“When’s the last time you were completely in your body?” He moves a little closer, until he’s only a foot away, and he traces a line down my lower back.
“The ocean.”
“Have you ever been there with someone else?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe. Not in a long time.
“Now?”
“Now what?”
“Are you thinking anything?”
“Everything,” I say.
His chuckle breaks the sexual tension in the air. “I love that about you.” Then he traces the waist of my bikini bottoms, and all the sexual tension is back. “I love your brain.”
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
No. That’s not possible. We’re here, in the place I share with Lexi. Next to the house where he fell for her again and again. But I don’t want to say that. I don’t want to say anything.
Of course it’s not possible. It’s not real. It’s part of this experiment. This game we’re playing.
I think.
It’s hard to concentrate with his hands on my skin.
He draws a line up my back again. Then down, all the way to the Lycra, along to my hips.
He pushes the bottoms over my ass and lowers himself to pull them to my feet.
He lifts one foot, pushes the bottoms off that, then the other, then rises and shifts, so he’s right behind me.
Then against me.
He doesn’t touch me. Not yet. He keeps his body against mine, the now-dry fabric of his T-shirt against my back, the rough material of his shorts against my ass. And the hardness beneath them.
It feels too good. Way too good.
I’m ready to drag him to my bed. But that’s not what we’re doing. We’re not here to have sex. We’re experimenting. Of course, we didn’t set any limits. We could have sex. If I want.
I do want.
I really, really want.
Slowly, he brings his hands to my hips, his mouth to my neck. He places a soft kiss on my skin, at the place where my neck meets my shoulders.
Then he moves higher. The brush of his lips on my skin. Enough my entire body buzzes. Enough the room spins.
Higher.
To the line of my jaw.
My cheek.
I’m naked, and he’s in his beach clothes, and we’re in the middle of my sunny California apartment, but I feel someplace else. Like we’re in one of those books where the billionaire seduces the virgin.
He’s just as powerful as a rich guy in a suit.
And I’m just as desperate for his touch.
River presses another kiss to my jaw. He keeps one hand on my hip. Brings the other to my breast.
He cups me softly.
Desire races through my veins. I want his touch. I want his hands everywhere, all the time, always.
He drags his lips down my neck again, along my shoulder, then back up, to my jaw.
Then he moves to my other shoulder and presses his lips to it. His other hand finds my breast.
Then it’s his thumbs against my nipples. Slow, soft movements as he kisses me with an impossible amount of patience.
Up my shoulders and neck.