Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
And not just any sex, but really good, earth-shattering, mind-blowing sex. The kind in movies or in romance books. I’ve never had sex like that before, not where my partner was so in tune with my needs, my body, and genuinely got off by getting me off.
And damn, he looks a little too good sleeping in my bed. He’s totally out, his breaths long and heavy. Honestly, who looks that good sleeping?
I probably look like a hot mess.
The thought propels me out of bed, moving as softly as I can. My steps are careful and quiet as I head to my bathroom, gently closing the door behind me. Nash wasn’t kidding, I could feel him with every step I took, and I didn’t hate it. It’s a pleasant sort of soreness, and my entire body floods with heat just thinking about it.
Is that how he always operated? Is sex like working out for him? Something that he’s really good at and is part of his regular routine? Or did it feel as different to him as it had to me?
Maybe it’s normal for him, and it’s just a perk that I’m open to during this fake dating situation. Which is fine and totally fair.
Either way, my once-upon-a-time-crush-turned-infuriating-teases me constantly-hockey-player isn’t at all what I thought. He’s kind and funny and confident in the sexiest way. I never once thought at the beginning of this whole situation that we’d have the chemistry we do, let alone the connection. And it is a connection, at least on my end. I’ve felt it for weeks, no matter how many times I try to deny it.
The closer I get to him, the more I like him.
Shit.
I like him.
Like…really, really like him.
I hurry through seeing to my needs, and then turn on the shower, not at all ready to go out and face him, not with all these intense feelings rising up inside me.
I told him I wouldn’t fall for him. We both agreed to it, and yeah, maybe I wasn’t there yet, but this liking him sure feels like a stepping stone to that.
I move under the steaming hot water, sighing at the contact and the little comfort it offers my racing mind. A brave person would simply ask him where he’s at. If he says he’s still just enjoying the perks of this deal, then that’s fine. At least I’d know where I stand—
The glass door opens, welcoming in a blast of colder air and a very naked Nash Stokehill.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he says, wrapping his arms around me from behind like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My heart stutters, excitement soaring through me at being greeted in such a way.
Every other thought empties out of my head.
“Morning, handsome,” I say, hoping to match his confidence as I shift to face him, allowing him under the stream of water.
He hisses. “You have it hot enough?”
I laugh. “Need me to turn it down for you?”
He shakes his head, his muscles flexing for a few more seconds before he adjusts to the temp.
“You left me alone in bed,” he says, reaching for my body wash, squeezing a glob into his hands before he rubs them together, and soaps me up.
I gasp at the touch, at the way his sudsy hands glide over every inch of my skin, and tremble when he lathers my breasts and lingers there.
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say even though need is flaring up inside me. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
He bends down, capturing my mouth with his. “Always wake me up,” he says.
Emotions hit me in the center of my chest. He says always like this will be a recurring situation. Like we’ll have lots of sleepovers instead of this being a one-night thing, which is his usual routine.
I swallow hard, forcing the thoughts away, and take my turn to soap him up. God, his body is a work of art, all muscle and ink that makes him look so damn good.
“Let me make it up to you,” I say after we’ve rinsed.
“What do you have in mind?” he asks, his blue eyes flaring wide as I shift a little, then drop to my knees in front of him.
“Reese—”
I clutch his cock and wrap my lips around his head, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.
“Fuck,” he gasps, thrusting a little into my mouth.
I grin around him, stroking him with one hand and swirling my tongue around his thick head with the other. It’s definitely his turn for a little attention. He’s given me plenty. Need bolts down my spine, my blood hot beneath my skin, the water bouncing off of Nash and onto me.
I relax my jaw and take him into my mouth as far as I possibly can, my eyes watering a little as I move up and down on him. He’s big, and I have to continue stroking him where I can’t fit him in.