Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“You should stop,” he told me.
“I should stop?” I challenged. “Or you want me to stop?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You should stop.”
“For my own good?” I laughed softly, putting my hands on the top of his chair, leaning close enough to brush my lips against his jaw. His beard was surprisingly soft.
“Yes. You don’t really want this.”
“I wonder,” I murmured, rocking my hips gently over his, “if it ever occurred to you, or to any man, that I might know what’s good for me. What I really want.”
His breath drew in sharply.
“My God, what would that be like?” I whispered in his ear. “What would I do with that kind of freedom?”
“I have a pretty good idea.” His voice was gravelly and thick.
“But you don’t trust me.” I pulled back slightly, looked him in the eye.
“Trust you?”
“To know what I want. You’d rather treat me like a little girl who needs a big, strong man to decide what’s best for her.”
“It’s not about that.”
“Then what’s it about, Xander? Tell me.”
“It’s about honor,” he said. “It’s about your brother and the trust he has in me. It’s about setting aside what I want and doing the right thing.”
“The right thing.” Closing my eyes, I sighed and shook my head. “Okay. Fine. You win.” I went to get off his lap, but his hands gripped my hips, locking me in place.
“Hey.” His voice was gruff, almost angry. “You don’t know how hard this is for me.”
My eyes flicked down to his crotch. “I would, if you’d just relax and kiss me for real.”
“I can’t kiss you for real,” he said, while his hands told a different story, rising to cradle my face. “I fucking can’t.”
Then he pulled me toward him, sealing his lips to mine. For a couple seconds, I was so surprised, I couldn’t even move. But then his tongue slid between my lips, reigniting that spark I’d felt earlier in the bar.
I bunched my fingers into his shirt and held on tight, as if I was afraid he was going to push me away. His hands returned to my hips and set me in motion, rocking my lower body over his. Our mouths opened wider, his tongue growing more aggressive and commanding. I imagined what that tongue might feel like on the most sensitive parts of my body and felt the shock of it all the way down to my toes.
The bulge of his cock was thick and hard between my legs, and I rubbed myself along its solid length. The kiss grew reckless and messy. His mouth moved down my jaw and throat, and he unzipped my hoodie to my belly button.
“Fuck,” he seethed, taking in the thin, low-cut tank top I wore without a bra. He tilted his forehead to my clavicle, and I felt his breath on my skin. “Fuck. I can’t.”
But then his mouth was on the upper curves of my breasts, his beard tickling my skin. Hooking his fingers over the top of my tank, he tugged it down, exposing one breast, and sucked hungrily on the puckered nipple. I cradled his head against my chest, my fingers threading into his hair. He moved to the other breast without even bothering to pull down my shirt, wetting the cotton, closing his lips over the stiff peak, drawing me and the material into his mouth with quick, hard pulls.
The fire popped and hissed, and the noise startled Xander to his senses.
Lifting me off his lap, he set me on my feet, drew my hoodie back over my shoulders, and backed away. “We have to stop.”
“Why?” I looked around. “No one is here.”
“We don’t know that for sure. Someone could have followed us. This is reckless and unsafe and . . . wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Yes.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I crossed the line. Your brother trusts me with you. He said I’m the only one he trusts with you.”
“So?”
“So that means something.” He spoke firmly, looking me in the eye. “Trust is important to me.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Me too, Xander! Trust is important to me too.”
Next to us, the fire crackled again, sending sparks shooting up into the dark. I shook my head. “Never mind. Let’s just forget this happened.”
“Thank you. I have to be able to do my job without distraction.”
“Of course,” I said, bristling at being called both a job and a distraction. I zipped my hoodie all the way to my chin. “I’m going into bed.” Then I walked away without another word, not even goodnight.
Ten minutes later, I slipped between my sheets in the dark and curled up on my side. I felt cold and empty, a complete contrast to the way I’d felt sitting out by the fire, or even at the restaurant tonight.