Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“I love this one,” she says, stepping up to the drawing I just hung last week. “Is this a posey?” she asks, her eyes fixed on the art.
I step up behind her. “Yeah. I’ve kind of had them on my mind lately.”
She spins around, her baby-blues connecting with mine. “It’s beautiful.”
My heart thrums in my chest, my body growing warm with how close she is to me. I inch closer, and she takes two steps back until she’s leaning against the wall. I place my hands along the wall, on either side of her head.
“I know you’re engaged. I know you’re marrying Bane, and I respect that. I respect you, you know that, right?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Good, because for the next few minutes it’s not going to look like I respect you at all.” I don’t even give her a chance to respond before I crash my lips to hers.
It’s needy. Urgent, and I press my tongue against the corners of her mouth, begging her to open for me. She does and my tongue traces along hers. It’s tantalizing.
I keep kissing her, deepening the kiss as my hands press into the wall. I grow hard with every little moan she makes.
When I break the kiss, both of our breathing is labored. She blinks at me, and I want to press my body into her.
“Close your eyes,” I breathe out. “I want you to picture me touching you.” I rest my forehead against hers, our mouths inches apart. “Picture my hand trailing down your body.”
“Ledger, please…” she breathes out, unable to finish her sentence.
The air’s thick around us, and I swear our breaths are uneven and fast. My heart’s nearly beating out of my chest, and I’m guessing hers is too. I want to touch her, but I can’t. She’s engaged, but it nearly kills me that I can’t do what I want to do with her.
I’m crossing a line with her that I shouldn’t be crossing. Fuck, I shouldn’t be anywhere near this damn line, but I can’t help it.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t resist you any longer. I want you, Posey.” I choke up as I keep our foreheads pressed together.
We breathe in each other’s air, our lips coming dangerously close to touching.
“Touch me now, Ledger. No one will ever know. Just please, touch me,” she begs, and the sound of her voice goes straight to my heart. Straight to my hardening dick.
Fuck, I’m so hard.
“We’ll know. We can’t do this, Posey. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
She does as I request.
“I need you to know I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before, but we can’t do this.”
She blows out a breath. “I know.”
I push off the wall, and pace my apartment. What am I doing? I should just touch her. Like the angel and devil sitting on my shoulder, I think about what I want to do.
No.
The moment’s lost, and I meant what I said. I do respect her.
She takes a seat along my white, plush sofa. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”
I cross the floor and take a seat next to her on the couch. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I say, and then I ask her what I’ve wanted to know all along. “Why him?”
She focuses her attention on her hands in her lap. “I had good reasons to marry Bane, but right now I can’t think of any of them.”
“Why are you still a virgin?” I ask her.
She blinks up at me. “It’s not like I set out to remain a virgin. For one, I never really liked anyone enough to give it away. After a while, it was easier and easier to save myself. Then, I got engaged to Bane, and he liked the fact I was a virgin.”
“Something to look forward to on the wedding night,” I say, my tone souring.
Chapter 16
Posey
Ever sat in a math class, or any subject really, and wanted to claw your eyes out because you hated the subject so much? That’s how I feel right now. I hate talking about Bane in any aspect. I hate it more when it’s with Ledger.
What I want to tell him is the truth. That I don’t want to marry Bane at all. That it’s merely a business deal.
“I also never felt like I deserved to have somebody love me,” I say truthfully.
His face morphs into confusion. “What do you mean?”
I resume my focus on my hands. I twist them in my lap as I try to articulate what exactly I mean. “I don’t know,” I start. “I guess because my mother never loved me. She left without a care in the world. She never called to check on me, or anything. After that I vowed to never let myself get too close to anyone so I could never feel like that again if they ever decided to leave me.”