Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
I wiggled in his grasp trying to free myself.
“Say you’re a Raptors fan,” he demanded, holding me tight, his teeth playfully nipping at my neck.
“Go Cowboys!” I cheered, my strength useless against Weston’s.
He picked me up, shifting me until I was over his shoulder. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said, and I swear my heart skipped a beat at his words.
“Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys,” I said in a little chant, and he smacked my ass over his shoulder.
The sweet sting of the move curled all the way up my spine as he walked into his bathroom. Still maintaining his grip, he leaned into his enormous shower and switched on the water.
“Say you’re a Raptors fan,” he demanded again.
“Never,” I teased.
“Your choice,” he said before stepping into the shower—
“Weston!” I squealed, wiggling against him as he stepped right into the stream of icy cold water from the shower. I sputtered through my laughter, the lounge clothes I was wearing getting absolutely soaked.
He shifted me off his shoulder, but kept a good hold on me as I wiggled desperately for freedom. We were both soaked, my nipples peaked against my white T-shirt, my shorts suctioned to my ass as my bare feet hit the shower floor.
I trembled as I looked up at Weston, his clothes sticking to his body and outlining every deliciously carved muscle he had. Suddenly I didn’t have a clue what we were fighting about.
My teeth started to chatter, and I tried to move again but Weston dipped down, capturing my mouth in his.
I sighed against the contact, the contrast of his hot mouth and the cold water showering us making my heart race. His hands worked their way up my body, cupping my breasts over my wet shirt.
“You want me to warm you up?” he asked, working my hard nipples between his fingers.
“Yes,” I begged.
He kissed my neck, his hand lowering and slipping beneath the band of my wet shorts. I was bare underneath, and he hissed as his fingers slid between my thighs. I bucked against his warm hand, and he nipped at my bottom lip.
“You know what you need to say,” he said.
I glared up at him. “Cow—”
He covered my mouth with his, shoving his tongue past my lips and effectively cutting me off. I moaned at the dominating kiss, arching my head back. Every nerve fired on high alert, the cold water clashing against the heat he was working up in my body.
His warm fingers circled my pulsing clit, the touch too light. “Come on, Brynn,” he said, smiling down at me. “Let’s make up.”
I shivered as he dragged his fingers down the center of me. I rocked into his hand, the need in me building into a white-hot knot.
He took his fingers away, stepping back enough to look at me. “Never mind,” he said, eyes raking over my trembling, wet body. “You look too good in those, all soaked and trembling. Let’s keep fighting.”
I bit my lip, wondering just how long I could handle this impromptu punishment. Then he took his shirt off, which was totally unfair. The fabric made a slopping sound as he tossed it on the shower floor.
“Wes,” I pled, but he only smirked at me, his own body shaking from the cold.
He was definitely more stubborn than me.
Two could play that game. I took off my shirt, then my shorts, tossing the two on top of his.
He groaned, biting his lip at the sight of my bare skin puckered from the cold.
When he didn’t immediately move to me, I arched a brow at him. “You don’t want to touch me anymore, Wes?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he tried to keep up the game he started.
I pursed my lips, adrenaline filling my veins as I reached up and cupped my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers. He growled at the sight, then shucked off his pants.
God, he was hard. How could he be hard in this cold water?
“Brynn,” he said my name like a warning.
“Yes?” I asked innocently, dragging my right hand down my stomach and back up again to my breast.
“Say it,” he demanded, eyes tracking every touch I made.
I smiled at him, embolden by the game. “If I say it will you make up with me?”
He gave me a nod, never taking his eyes off of me.
I let my hand fall down my stomach, and stroked my fingers through my heat. I arched my head back, sighing at the contact I was desperate for.
“Fucking hell, Brynn,” he groaned.
I bit my lip, touching myself a few more times before I finally parted my lips. “Raptors,” I said, slightly breathless. “I love the Raptors. They’re the best team—”
Weston’s mouth captured mine, kissing me hungrily while he adjusted the water behind me to a delicious warmth that sent shivers of relief all over my cold-slick skin. Then he stepped back, settling himself on the bench a foot away.