Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
This kiss is everything we held back in the park. It’s everything I wanted on that bench. On a rainy night in London, all the checked restraint washes away on the sidewalk as Jude wraps his arms around my neck and I hold his face in my hands.
We don’t stop. We speed up, asking for more, throwing in the white flag of surrender completely.
I spear my tongue into his mouth, devouring his taste. My God, I want to claim him everywhere. Map his body with my mouth.
His tongue strokes mine and he tugs me against him, and we are unstoppable. I gasp into his mouth as our cocks rub together, rock-hard through our jeans.
My brain pops, and my skin sizzles, and somewhere in my mind, I’m aware that we’re soaking wet on the streets of London after midnight, and neither one of us cares.
I never want to stop kissing him. But I do want to know all the flavors of his kiss, so I slow down, tug on his bottom lip.
And I shudder. Everywhere. More, more, my mind begs. Don’t stop—my heartbeat echoes.
I downshift into a slow, indulgent kiss, and in seconds, he’s moaning into my mouth.
His sounds electrify my senses as I take a long, lingering tour of his lush mouth, lick the corner of his lips, then press a gentle, druggy kiss right there.
“Ohhhh,” he murmurs and grinds against me, seeking contact. Seeking me. Inside, I smile wickedly. I’m kissing Jude, and he’s coming apart under my touch.
I don’t care about anything but getting him naked and into my bed.
We wrench apart. I stare hungrily at this man with the swollen lips and drenched hair. We’re both soaking wet. “Have you seen my shower curtain? It’s really perky.”
Jude’s smile is dirty and delicious. “Show it to me.”
21
CONFESSIONS OF AN AFTERSHAVE THIEF
TJ
Wet clothes on your skin are not arousing. After a quick walk in the rain, we head up the five floors in our building, our shoes squeaking on each step.
Once we’re in the flat, I pull him against me. Slide my hands through his damp hair. More honesty comes out when I say, “I want you naked. Want to do everything to you.”
“Like what?”
I whisper filthy plans in his ear, then, since it’s best to get this out in the open now, just in case we’re not compatible in bed, I finish with, “And I really want to fuck you, Jude.”
I wait, hoping he wants me that same way.
A breath staggers from his lips, and then he gives a slow, naughty nod. “Then you really should fuck me, TJ,” he says, squeezing my hard-on like he’s checking the evidence. “Since it’s clear how much you want to.”
He smirks. The fucker smirks, then peels off his shirt, throws it on the floor, and heads to the bathroom, tossing me a come-and-get-it glance.
I follow him without question, unbuttoning my wet shirt, leaving it on a pile on the floor, then setting my phone on the table. Once he’s in the bathroom, he unzips his jeans, but taking them off looks painful. They literally squeak. They’re so wet.
“I’ll help you,” I say.
“Please do. That’s really sexy,” Jude says, laughing.
But when I sink to my knees and tug the cold, wet denim down his hips, he moans in appreciation. “Actually, it’s ridiculously sexy with you like that, TJ.”
With a smile I can’t hide, I work his jeans down to his knees, then his ankles, watching his face. He grabs hold of the edge of the vanity, hopping for a second, nearly stumbling. I grab his hip to steady him.
“That was the hottest I’ve ever been, right?” he asks with another laugh.
I press a kiss to his hip with a soft murmur. His skin is cold, but I’m going to fire him up. “Yes, this is the hottest you’ve ever been because you’re getting naked for me.”
His grin burns off. “Been wanting to for so long.”
We set a record as I help him get his jeans off the rest of the way.
I’m shaking with so much lust, so much anticipation as I check out his boxer briefs and the generous bulge behind them.
But also, the color. “Yellow. Your underwear is the color of the shower curtain,” I say, eating up this secret like it’s candy.
“I told you I like color.”
“You really fucking do,” I say, my fingers trembling with wicked eagerness as I pull them down till his cock says hello.
My breath hitches. “Fuck, your dick is nice,” I say in the understatement of the century. His cock is as beautiful as the rest of him.
“Bet it tastes better than nice,” he says, threading a hand through my wet hair and guiding me closer as I push his briefs off the rest of the way.
My mouth waters. I wrap my hands around his ass and dip my head to his cock, swirling my tongue over the head.