Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Acting on impulse, I drop my bag and step forward, pushing Elodie back against the door, cupping her face between my hands. She looks up at me, her eyes wide. She swallows hard and licks her full lips, and we’re standing so close together, I can feel her heart pounding in her breast. Leaning down, I press my mouth to hers. Elodie is tentative at first, and her entire body stiffens. But then her lips part, allowing me to slide my tongue into her mouth, and almost instantly, she melts against me.
I swallow the soft sigh that drifts from her mouth as our tongues languidly roll around one another. My hands slide down her neck and arms then down to her hips. And when I slide them both up, trailing them across her flat belly, she tenses again, her body tauter than a bowstring. As our kiss deepens, I take her full, round breasts in my hands and groan as I softly knead them. Elodie trembles as I trace her stiff nipples with my thumbs then squeaks softly when I give them a firm pinch. Her body softens as she grabs my forearms and squeezes them tight.
Pulling back, I glance down into her face and see the same lust and desire flashing through her eyes I know is within mine. My cock is stiff and straining against the front of my slacks. I know she can feel it pressed against her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, she rolls her hips, lightly grinding herself against me, and a low groan passes my lips. I want to strip Elodie down and do a million things with her. For her part, she seems game.
“Elodie, sweetheart,” Maryanne calls from the bedroom. “Can you help me get dressed, dear? I’d like to go for a walk.”
“Damn,” I mutter.
She gives me a flirty smirk as I step back and set her free. Elodie quickly smooths down her hair and clothing, her expression quickly morphing from lustful to dutiful.
“Coming, Mam,” she calls. “Sorry, I should go.”
“Right. Of course,” I reply. “I’ll let myself out.”
“Thanks.”
I watch her bound down the hall, my eyes fixed on the way her jeans hug her ass. My cock is so rigid right now, it’s painful and begging for release. As I head out of the Carter home, the taste of Elodie’s lips still on mine, I grumble to myself, seeing yet another jerk-off session in the shower in my immediate future.
7
ELODIE
Ipull the Beast into a spot in front of Dunning’s Market and cut off the engine. Across the street is Dr. Collier—Ethan’s—office and when I see it, a flutter runs through my heart and other, more intimate parts of my anatomy. That is quickly replaced by the mortification about running off at the mouth the way I did. I cover my face with my hand and groan. Why did I feel the need to tell him I’m a virgin? What was I thinking?
What in the hell is wrong with me?
It’s been a few days since Ethan and I shared that moment in the foyer at home, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I swear to God, my lips are still tingling. And I don’t even know how many pairs of panties I’ve burned through simply because a random memory of that kiss will shoot through my mind, and boom, just like that, I’m soaked all over again. No matter how many times I’ve gotten myself off thinking about it, recalling his big hands on my body, the taste of his tongue on mine, or that incredibly long, rigid cock pressed against my belly, it’s never enough to sate the lust filling my veins.
For a brief moment there, I really thought about giving my virginity to Ethan. He’s intelligent, kind, and at least on the surface, he seems like the sort of man I’ve always wanted to build a life with. But he’s also twice my age. Ever since we kissed, I’ve been trying to convince myself that this is nothing but some silly, schoolgirl crush. The only problem is that I’m not a schoolgirl anymore, and if this is a crush, it’s more intense than anything I’ve felt before.
But this can’t happen. I can’t give in to all the fantasies scrolling through my mind. I’m not going to be in Emerson forever and will be going back to California at some point. The last thing I want to do is get involved with a man, sleep with him, and then just leave. That’s not who I am. I’m not a prude and I’m not saving myself for marriage, but I’ve also never been comfortable with the idea of just sleeping around. I know my worth and want to give myself to somebody who does too. Screwing just to screw hasn’t ever sounded fun to me.