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)
She looks down quietly before she says, “Oh, she’d totally let me wiggle out of it. It’s just...it’s not that easy for me. I agreed because I thought I needed an extra kick in the butt.”
My grip on her hands tightens as she looks up.
Her eyes are full of shadows and gold in the string lights overhead, stretched between the bar’s decorative sunshades, hanging above us like fireflies.
“What kick?” I echo gently. “Why are you so hard on yourself?”
“Because. I’m tired of being the boring girl. The good girl, especially at these stupid parties,” she rushes out. “I’m sick of being so flipping indecisive, of overthinking everything, of being alone while everybody else is pairing up and having the time of their lives.”
The hurt simmering out of her feels too real.
I also sense she isn’t done, so I squeeze her fingers again, urging her to let the rest out. She’s been holding on to this venom for a while.
I should know better than anyone how unhealthy that can be.
“And...and honestly, until tonight, I thought I’d just give up and let Marnie have the last laugh, as pathetic as that sounds. I thought I’d just let her choose because maybe she should.”
Her face falls as she wipes another rogue tear away.
With my breath lodged in my throat, I reach up and cover her hand, pushing it down and swiping the tear off her skin.
“Until tonight, huh? What changed?”
When she turns her face up to meet my eyes, I have my answer.
Her eyes glow so brilliantly they’re almost like lacquered wood.
They’re beaming a message that rips me completely the fuck in two.
Until you.
Fuckity.
Whatever I expected I might run into tonight with diving exercises outside my usual range, it damn sure wasn’t this.
Now, I have a choice to make with a dozen wicked consequences, and about ten seconds to decide.
As soon as I’m sure she’s sobbed her last, I wrap her up tight in my arms, gazing into those beautiful eyes.
They’re so conflicted they’re white like paper smeared with ink.
I draw her closer. My lips make a vow my brain has to match.
I’m going to make this princess whole.
3
Rose-Colored Glasses
I. Am. Reeling.
I expected him to hate me after I opened up, to say some cruel thing, to laugh in my face.
It might’ve been easier if he had.
Because at least then I wouldn’t be totally boneless.
But I also wouldn’t be a melting heap in his arms, fused to the hottest kiss of my life, digging my nails into his powerful neck and moaning until I’m delirious.
Mystery Chris swipes his tongue against mine with fire, with passion, with desire.
He drinks me in with empathy.
And in one brutal, beautifully unexpected kiss, this stranger rips the veil of my entire world in two.
Holy hell.
My panties feel like they’re so drenched they’re barely there, but somehow I grind against him, clinging to his thick neck for dear life.
The throaty way he rasps when he tears away from my lips renders me freaking blind for the next ten seconds.
“Say the word,” he whispers.
“The word?” I whisper weakly.
“Say you want this, princess, and I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. I will end your dry spell. I will make it rain so damn hard, you can drown your idiot friend in an ocean she’ll never be good enough to taste.”
Oh my God.
Even his eyes are blistering, not just his touch, crackling like teal-green flames.
“Of course, if it’s too much—” he starts.
“No.” I shake my head, running my tongue along my lips. “No, Chris. Please. Give me rain.”
His eyes ignite a shade brighter and he grins.
“See? I knew you’d be fun, Delia. Storm’s coming, but not until I’ve softened you up,” he breathes against my lips. “I’ll take you away, woman. Every goddamned place I see you begging to visit in every glance. You just have to trust me. Let me steer. After tonight, I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
Goddamn.
I think those words might echo in my head forever, and I wonder why he’s so magnetic. So undeniably bad for me that he’s actually good.
An electric shudder ripples up my spine.
Everything about this man screamed power before.
But once he guides me into dancing again, leading me effortlessly across the sands, around the fire, weaving our shadows together like rich black velvet, I start to get an inkling of just how incredible he is.
Just how right he might be to win my silly bet with Marnie and break my personal, unsexy curse.
There’s something visceral every time I breathe him in, that intoxicatingly Chris smell of old pine and testosterone and sandalwood gliding off him.
No question, this is a man—not another college boy—and he brings an edge so sharp I want him to cut me to pieces.
Chris handles me with strength and elegance as we dance deep into the night.
I offer up my trust.
He gives total control.