Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
What would this wolf of a man think if he knows I’m a virgin?
Two possibilities.
Either he’ll cut and run or else he’ll rip me away from the wall, push me into the sand, and mark me from the inside out for life.
It’s equal parts exhilarating and scary as hell.
The butterflies swarming my stomach take over, teasing my nerves, sapping the confidence I had earlier.
Maybe we should take it slow. Ease into this. Assuming he’s local...
We could work into it, right?
“My turn,” he growls darkly. “You kiss like a little maniac, Delia. I fucking love it. Now, get on your knees and show me what that mouth does. Show me everything, woman.”
Even if we don’t go all the way, I’m happy to try.
I swallow and nod.
His hands move to his hips and he backs up a step, tearing at his belt.
Here come those nerves again.
His size worries me more than my inexperience.
That monster ridge in his jeans gets closer, stronger, realer with every movement.
I’ve messed around with toys, but his outline alone looks like he’d put them all to shame.
My pulse doubles.
My eyes are glued to his fingers, hovering over his zipper.
I wait breathlessly, drenching my ruined panties. My head swirls with ginormous images of what he’s about to reveal.
Then there’s a sound like someone shredding the night and a rumbling vibration in my pocket.
I jump, realizing too late it’s just my phone.
Ugh.
Worst timing ever.
“You need to take that?” Chris chuckles, low and rich and sexy as ever.
Sighing, I pull out the phone and tap the screen, wincing when I see DAD lit up at the top.
Honey, are you okay? Marguerite said she can still hear the noise out there. Should I have her check on you?
Chris gives me a knowing grin, his green eyes twinkling.
There isn’t much patience in that look, though. I feel bad.
He looks like he wants to rip the phone out of my hands and chuck it into the ocean, obliterating this distraction so I can return the very big, explosive favor he did me.
“Sorry. One second.” I type back furiously, telling my father I’ll run off any stragglers and head to bed in another hour or so.
I smile at Chris again as my phone slides back in my pocket, ready to find my courage.
Buzz-buzz.
Another message.
Another understanding-but-not look from Chris.
Another sigh as I hate-glare at the screen.
Dad: Cordelia, kindly pack it in early tonight. I’d greatly appreciate it. You know how nervous Evie is about tomorrow.
I know you’re young and living it up, but we’ve got family business tomorrow, remember? Please get some sleep tonight.
My brows knit together until it stings.
That’s Daddy, all right.
Mr. Upright, ever overprotective and anxious.
Actually, it’s a little sweet how much he innocently worries about me, but I know this isn’t just that.
He’s terrified of rattling her.
Dad won’t dare upset the trophy wife I never wanted for a stepmother. And as much as I hate to admit it, he has good reason.
I’ve heard Marguerite talking to the other staff.
Just a few months in and they’re all sick of her.
Evie’s tantrums could rival a sixteen-year-old girl. She’s not shy about chewing people out—even good, hardworking housekeepers who have been with us since I was ten years old.
I think Dad secretly fears her turning on him, too.
Or maybe he’s just so blinded by the honeymoon phase he keeps making excuses, praying things will get better, waiting for his marriage to magically bloom into the perfect happily ever after.
Not likely.
Still, I won’t be the one to burst his bubble.
Until then, we’re one big happy family, and for Dad’s sake, I’ll go along with it as much as I can stand.
I look at Chris again, my smile fading.
My heart sinks.
Will he even want to see me again if I have to call things off here?
I could try to force it, sure.
But this is no way to pleasure a man for the first time. Not while I’m oozing guilt over ruining Dad’s dinner tomorrow.
“So, um, please don’t hate me,” I say, stepping forward and stroking his arm. “But there’s a family thing. I don’t want to do this, but I need to get going and make sure people get packed up and home okay. Can we take a rain check?” I swallow.
My eyes search his.
I hold my breath until he wraps an arm around my waist, jerking me against his chest so hard I bask in our combined heat.
“You’re goddamned lucky I’m local. For now.” His arrogant lips brush mine.
Softly at first, then his kiss deepens, adding this nip of teeth that says too much.
Rough. Aggressive. Domineering.
This man wants me bad—and I want him.
The steady burn between my legs reignites. I press my thighs together, trying to decide if I hate how wet he makes me or if I’m secretly in love with it.
His hand finds my ass and squeezes.