Wild at Heart Read Online Christina Lee, Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
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He blinks in shock, then quickly recovers. “How about if the employee wants to kiss his boss hard to shut him up, despite knowing it shouldn’t happen?”

I’m panting now as my heart lodges in my throat. “Why shouldn’t it happen?”

He leans toward me as if taunting me with those full lips. “Obviously because there’s an imbalance there.”

“Oh, I doubt there’s an imbalance, not where Porter Dixon is concerned.”

His eyes blaze. “The other employees could find out and think there’s preferential treatment.”

I give his body a once-over and notice how stiff he is behind his zipper. “There’s definitely a preference. Can’t be helped.”

“Fucking hell,” he rasps out. “Why do you always draw me in like a moth to a flame?”

“Pretty sure it’s mutual, but damn, I love hearing it.” I grip his chin. “Careful, I’m gonna think you want me as much as I want you.”

“I shouldn’t want you, boss…” He hesitates only a moment before he says, “But I do.”

And then my lips are crushing his, and we’re both groaning into the kiss. And damn, having him again in this way, when I never thought it possible, is overwhelming. Like everything clicking into place and unsettling all at once.

His hands wind around my shirt, and he’s tugging me closer as our mouths crash together. We’re all hands and lips and tongues, and when our stiff cocks rub together, I feel like I might shoot right there in my pants.

I break away to catch my breath, and glance over his shoulder. The parking lot is still empty, and we’re all alone.

“Porter,” I murmur before taking his mouth again.

Chapter 14

Porter

This is fucking stupid. I don’t know what in the hell I’m thinking. The truth is, I’m not. I might regret it later, but right now, I can’t see past my want for him. It’s as if our slates are wiped clean and nothing matters but making each other feel good.

There is nothing like bringing Bishop Sullivan to his knees, nothing like the power I feel in his want for me. I could taste it on his tongue the first time we’d kissed all those years ago, and it’s still here now, as potent as ever.

I deepen the kiss, let my tongue explore his mouth. Sully lets me. He’s always let me do anything I want to him when we’re like this, easily opening himself up to the pleasure I give him.

His hands go to my hips, fingers digging in, pressure growing to the point where I know if we keep going this way, he’ll leave marks, and I fucking want them.

My hat falls to the ground, and I don’t stop to pick it up. He’s a mixture of beer and desire, tongue dancing with mine, and he’s making little sounds I swallow down.

I pull back, my cock throbbing behind my fly as I press my palm against his substantial erection. “Always so easy to get you hard for me.” I massage him.

“Fuck…you gonna do anything about it?”

“Don’t know,” I tease him, my own dick trying to break out of my jeans. I swear it’s like I got a cement pole down my pants.

Sully leans in, teeth nipping at my neck the way he used to do, sending any remaining good sense I had to the damn moon. My body takes over, a frenzied need racing through me, fueling my movements so my hands go straight to his jeans, tugging them open with clumsy, eager fingers.

Sully drops his forehead to my shoulder, a hissing sound whistling through his teeth when I shove my hand down his open jeans, beneath his underwear, and cup him again.

I nearly melt into the damn gravel at the feel of his cock beneath my fingers—the ridge of every vein, the soft, tender skin covering the pulsing, hard length beneath. His desire for me is like a furnace, putting off heat that burns through my fingertips as I stroke his shaft.

My body is tingling, mouth hungry for him. Like he knows it, Sully’s lips come down on mine. I twist us around, his back against the truck while we devour each other’s mouths. He’s ripping at my jeans at the same time, opening them, shoving them down some so he can get to my dick.

“Fuck.” I thrust into his fist, savor the squeeze of his hand.

The chill in the air around us does nothing to cool us down. I’m overheating, fucking into his hand and jerking Sully while he fucks into mine. Gravel crunches beneath our boots, mouths pulled together with magnetic energy I’ve only felt with him.

My tongue pushes into his mouth, bodies squeezing tighter together so I can rut against him, thrust our groins together, wishing we were naked and I could lay him out and take him apart inch by inch.

“Fuck…Porter…so damn good. My balls are aching. You’re gonna make me shoot.”



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