Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
I moan around him, already on the verge of an orgasm.
"Are you going to come for me? You better," he says, pulling my hair to angle my head. "I'm not going to give you what you want and come down this perfect throat until you do."
I claw at his thigh with my free hand, choking on him as the coil shrinks.
"Christ, you're everything to me."
I shatter like crystal at his confession, cracking apart at the seams. Waves roll over me, annihilating me.
He groans my name, his muscles quivering as he tries to pull back, but that isn't what I want. I follow him, keeping him right where he is. His eyes meet mine, so much emotion in them I can't breathe. I can't think. I fucking drown in him as he growls my name, his seed splashing across my tongue and down my throat.
I swallow eagerly, greedily, drinking him down with my eyes locked with his. Every last damn drop he spills.
"Fuck," he whispers when he's so sensitive he's shaking. He pulls back, slipping from my lips.
I smile up at him…and then I'm in his arms, his mouth on mine as he kisses me, stealing my air and making it his own.
"You fucking own me, Emilia," he breathes against my lips. "You hear me? You own me."
"You own me too, Nash," I whisper.
"Lariat." Logan drops into the booth beside me, grinning. "Haven't seen you around the locker room lately."
We're at a bar downtown with the team. They're flying out for another game in the morning, so we're hanging out while we have the chance. Nash insisted I come with him. I wasn't entirely sold on the idea, but Alice is here too. So is Logan's new assistant, Peyton.
I'm glad I came. It's been a lot of fun.
"And I haven't seen you in my office," I retort, eyeing Logan over the rim of my wineglass. "But I know you've been getting my emails. You've responded to them."
"Yeah, and I responded no." He smirks at me. "That means I'm not coming, Doc."
"Not a doctor. But fine, then I guess I'll be seeing you in the locker room again soon." I eye him levelly, refusing to give up that easily. Between his sister and the way he keeps looking at Peyton, he very obviously has a lot going on in his life. He may hide it behind that devil-may-care attitude, but I'm not fooled. The man needs someone he can talk to about it, and from what I know, he doesn't share much with the guys.
"Jesus Christ," Jordan growls from the opposite side of the table, scowling at Logan. "If she shows up in the locker room while we're changing again, I'm kicking your ass. We still haven't recovered from last time she came in, insults blazing."
"It will be his fault," I agree.
"You are a little shit-stirrer, aren't you?" Logan asks, amusement heavy in his voice.
"Takes real to recognize real, Moreno."
Archer laughs abruptly from his other side. "She has you pegged to a fucking T, man."
"Fine. I'll consider dropping by your office." Logan holds up a finger. "But only to say hey. Not to discuss shit."
"Fine. Then I'll consider not barging into the locker room again," I say sweetly.
Jordan shakes his head, laughing quietly. "You're a fucking terrorist, you know that?"
"Stop flirting with my girl, Silvestri," Nash growls, stepping up behind me. He places a hand on my shoulder, sending a shiver through me.
"Get fucked, Whatley," Jordan retorts, flipping him off. "You're the one who ran off and left her here all alone. You're lucky I'm the one sitting here and not River."
"I went to the bathroom, you dick."
Jordan shrugs, picking up his beer. "Like I said, you left her alone in a bar with River."
"Fuck," Nash mumbles, his worried eyes coming to me. "Was he a problem for you?"
"No." I laugh quietly. "I haven't even seen him, Nash. Jordan is just messing with you."
"River left an hour ago," Micah says.
"Thank God," Nash mutters, pulling me up out of the booth. "I don't want you anywhere near him."
"Sucks for you. I'm his staff psychologist too." It's not like I can't handle River anyway. He flirts with everything that moves, but he's not a Chad by any means. He's just…deflecting. He thinks if he talks a big game, no one will look beyond it to the stuff he doesn't want them to see. Eventually, he'll realize that he's causing more problems for himself than he's solving.
Nash scowls at me.
"Don't even start, Whatley," I warn him. "I can handle River. You worry about yourself."
"I like her more every time I see her," Micah mutters. "She has brass balls."
"Jealous because mine are bigger than yours, Erikson?"
"You wish, Lariat."
"Uh, I've seen yours." I bat my lashes at him. "Mine are definitely bigger."
Jordan stands abruptly. "And that's my cue to get the fuck out of here."