Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Then I’m plucked up again—and settled onto his lap. Straddling him.
We’re face to face, his mouth so close to mine, but I’m so overwhelmed by the sudden press of my mound to his denim bulge, my body takes over, reacting at will. I moan and scoot closer in his lap, thighs inching wider around his hips, my breath catching over the friction, the rake of sensitive flesh over steel.
“Ohhh.” My fingers curl in the collar of his fire department shirt. “Is this making out?”
“It will be when I kiss you.”
Shamefully, I stare at his sensual mouth. “When will that be?”
“As soon as I calm down a little. Jesus.” He closes his eyes briefly. “It’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to unzip my jeans and shove you down on it. Talk to me, distract me, while I remind myself to do this right.”
Shove me down on it. That kind of imagery shouldn’t excite me, but…it does? The idea of him being a little rough with me out of desperation makes my skin feel feverish. Wait, I’m supposed to be distracting him. “Um. Okay. I-I’m a psychology major. I…completed my first year while I was still in high school, so while it’s my first year at BU, but I’m technically already in my second year. I’m the annoying kid in class who always asks too many questions and begs for extra credit.”
“You’re the opposite of annoying.” His hands are under my skirt now, sliding down into my panties and gripping the cheeks of my bottom, his groan making me feel slippery between my thighs. “Anyone calls you annoying, Mandy, you tell me, and I’ll set them straight.”
“No one actually calls me that.” My voice is unnaturally breathy, my lower body beginning to roll, grind, seeking friction. “I can just tell they’re thinking it.”
“You don’t need the people who make you feel that way.” His lips brush sideways against mine, his gaze intense and seeking mine. “You’re a bike, Mandy, and those people are just training wheels. Eventually you have to take them off to go faster.”
It’s intoxicating.
His support and praise.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I wonder how Bobby knows to feed me exactly what I crave, though. How did he know what I needed to hear? How did he find the exact sentiment I’ve needed from my peers, my parents, only to be disappointed and left feeling alone? I didn’t even know what I needed to hear—until now. My confidence climbs higher in the wake of his words, though, and I don’t want to listen to the niggle of suspicion in the back of my head. I only want to drown it out with more of his voice.
“Maybe you should text your friends, too,” I whisper against his mouth, teasingly, his hold on my backside grinding me into his lap, slowly, repeatedly. Over. And over. And over. “In case they’re worried I’m trying to kidnap you.”
His chuckle is husky and dark. “They’ll definitely have questions for me the next time I see them.” He yanks me extra close, extra roughly, making me whimper, my thighs flexing in response around his hips. “Not going to tell them a goddamn thing, though. I’m the only one who needs to concern myself with you. No one else. Not ever. Understand me, Mandy?”
The longer he keeps me pressed to his hardness, the more intensely that sensitive nub between my legs throbs, until my knees begin to shake. “I-I understand,” I gasp, lightheaded.
“Do you have class tomorrow?”
“No,” I sob. He yanks me tighter and white noise crackles in my ears.
Am I going to have an orgasm?
“Good.” He licks the side of my face and lifts his hips, bouncing me twice. “You’re going to stay in my bed until tomorrow night. Then I’m going to bring you to Quincy, introduce you to my family. My sister, parents. You’re going to wear this innocent, pleated skirt and sit on my lap during dinner and they’ll be thrilled I finally brought home a nice girl. Then it’s back to my bed with your thighs open. Sunday, too, gorgeous. We fuck until I say stop. We on the same page?”
I’m delirious at this point. All I can do is moan, “Yes,” my hips refusing to stay still, working my sex on his lap like a beggar. I like the way he speaks to me. I can’t believe how my body responds to his authoritative tone, prickling with goosebumps and excitement and lust. I ignore the voice in my head telling me it’s too soon to meet his family—heck, it’s too soon to be going home with him—but he makes me feel safe and significant and sexy.
Sexy for the first time in my life.
“It’s time to give me that mouth, Mandy.”
I’m already surging forward to connect us, our mouths meeting hungrily and twisting, his tongue entering me without preamble, stroking mine in the most erotic, intimate way that I feel instantly possessed. Ruled. It’s wild how much I love it. Love him stripping off my sweater and flicking open the rear snap of my bra, holding eye contact with me while he drags the garment down my arms and tosses it onto the dashboard, his attention dropping to my breasts.