Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
My mouth hovers over hers, barely touching it. When she lifts her chin, attempting to get closer, I draw away. “Not until you tell me the truth.”
She huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like you.”
So fucking stubborn.
“Maybe you don’t want to, but you do. There’s no way you’d be here otherwise. You knew exactly what would happen when you came to my house and waited for me to show up. I’ll bet your pussy got wet just thinking about it.”
“No.” She shakes her head as her eyes grow desperate. “I was mad—”
“Come on, baby. Admit the truth. You want me just as much as I want you.” Fear and panic swim around in her dark depths. It’s enough to have guilt slicing through me for continuing to push and prod her into giving me an answer.
Here’s the thing—if this relationship is going to progress, I need total honesty between us. She also needs to stop running away and holding me at a distance.
Does this girl think she’s the only one who’s scared?
Fuck, no. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before, and the time we’ve spent together has only made me realize that. Now, she just needs to accept it as well. Otherwise, neither of us can move forward.
So…if I have to play a little dirty and deny us both what we want, then so be it.
I nip at her lower lip, sucking the plump flesh into my mouth before releasing it. Instead of kissing her the way I want, I slide downward, grazing the sharp curve of her jaw. A smile trembles at the corners of my lips. Does she even realize that she’s bearing the delicate column of her throat for me?
I drop kisses along her silky soft skin, sucking and licking as I go. The sooner Lola realizes that she now belongs to me, the easier it’ll be for both of us.
My teeth sink into the flesh that flutters madly over her pulse. “Tell me.”
A whimper escapes from her.
“Sorry, that’s not going to cut it,” I growl.
The war I’m waging continues to rage as I arrive at her collarbone and yank the neckline of her shirt down before running my tongue across the exposed flesh until she grows restless beneath me.
“Asher,” she groans, voice brimming with need, “we shouldn’t…”
“The hell we shouldn’t,” I mutter, undeterred about my course of action.
Whether she wants to accept it or not, this is happening. There’s no turning this bus around.
Not anymore.
One hand snakes down her body until my fingers reach the hem of her shirt before shoving it upward until her simple white bra is bared to my sight. I’ve been with plenty of chicks who enjoy wearing lacy little underthings that are meant to get a man’s blood pumping. That’s not the case with this one. It’s strictly utilitarian in nature.
Just like Lola.
And yet, for reasons I can’t quite pinpoint, this bra turns me on more than any frothy undergarment ever has.
I hover over one breast before biting down on the hard little nipple that pokes through the fabric. A moan falls from her as she arches her back, offering herself up to me. I suck the stiff bud through the fabric into my mouth before giving the same ardent attention to the other.
“We both know what the truth is. Come on, baby girl. All you gotta do is admit it.”
“No.” She shakes her head, refusing to give up the fight.
Doesn’t she realize that the outcome has already been written?
I’ve never been more convinced of anything in my life as I am about her.
Now, I just need her to tell me she feels it too.
25
LOLA
I don’t understand what this guy is doing to me.
All right—physically speaking—I get it.
The moment Asher lays hands on my body, I fall to pieces. Even when I’m pissed off and smoke is pouring out of my ears, all he has to do is touch me—even look at me in that heated-up way of his—and all my anger dissipates until I can’t remember what I was mad about in the first place. The effortless spell he’s able to weave is disturbing on so many levels. If I could snuff it out, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
But that’s not possible. Not when his mouth is drifting over me, licking and sucking at my flesh. Or when his calloused hands stroke over my body. He makes me want things I have no business longing for.
Doesn’t he realize that I have a plan?
One I’ve followed since high school…and he’s attempting to derail it. The most frightening part is that there are times when it’s tempting to give in and wave the white flag. To do the unthinkable and take a chance on this brawny football player who has coasted through life without so much as a hiccup.