Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
No. Not going there.
"Emma?"
"What?"
"I really am sorry. About Ireland."
I squeezed my eyes shut. "Rule number three."
He fell silent. But I could feel him there, solid and warm and far too close.
How the hell was I going to survive this? Evenings full of touching and cuddling to play the happy couple, and nights like this? I had half a mind to roll over and kiss him—to tell him to fuck me right now so we could just get this awkward, annoying tension out of the way.
I bit my lip, pressing my thighs together as I tried to squeeze my eyes shut.
No. There was absolutely no reality where I was going to let James “the wedding wrecker” Carter fuck me. Even if…
Nope.
I folded my arms, curling into an even smaller ball, as if I could maybe just compress myself into nothing and evaporate out of this whole situation.
To take my mind off his tantalizing proximity, I forced myself to think about all the important details of the coming days. Floral deliveries, meetings with staff to make sure events were going smoothly, and all the fun excursions I’d planned for the wedding party to enjoy in the days leading up to the wedding.
The distraction was working until I realized all those fun excursions were now going to be filled with James and pretending to be madly in love with him.
He rolled over to his side and I felt what I was almost certain was his ass lightly pressing against my back.
Oh God.
I opened my mouth to tell him to move it, but I couldn’t find the words.
Instead, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and lay there wondering what I had done in a previous life to deserve this kind of perfect torture.
10
JAMES
Iwoke up to two very… large issues.
Emma was draped across my chest like a silk-clad blanket, her leg thrown over my hips in a way that put her directly in contact with my second, more urgent problem.
Morning wood was normal. Having the woman who'd been starring in my fantasies for three years grinding against it in her sleep was not.
A small puddle of drool marked where her face pressed against my chest. Her shorts had ridden up during the night, and her squirming had crumpled the comforter and sheets around our ankles.
Light streamed in through my small window, highlighting the tantalizing view of her exposed leg and half of her ass in perfect, buttery morning light.
Every few seconds, she was making these small but very real movements with her hips that were going to drive me insane. It was almost as if she was grinding on me in her sleep.
I wished I could pay a visit to whatever dream she was having.
I tried to ease away, but she just followed, pressing closer with a sleepy murmur. Her leg tightened over my hips, creating friction that made me have to bite back a groan.
"Emma," I whispered. No response except her nuzzling deeper into my chest.
This was fine. I just had to carefully extract myself without waking her. If she woke to find herself like this, I had no doubt she’d somehow convince herself this was my fault. But fuck, I’d behaved, despite the overwhelming temptation to suggest otherwise last night. I’d hardly slept because of how hard it had been to keep my hands to myself.
And now this?
But it was alright. I could do the right thing. I would quietly fix this without waking her, and she’d be none the wiser. Easy.
I started to slide sideways, moving inch by torturous inch. Emma made a small sound of protest and shifted again. Like a baby monkey unwilling to release its mother, she reached out, grabbed my shoulder, and fully slid on top of me, straddling me and my morning wood.
Her legs were spread perfectly, positioning her warmth right over my hard and throbbing cock.
Fuck.
Not better. Definitely not better.
Her silk shorts did nothing to hide the heat pressed against me, and my thin sleep pants might as well have been tissue paper. When she rolled her hips, seeking comfort in her sleep, I had to grip the sheets to keep from grabbing her.
"James..." she moaned softly, hips rocking as she grinded herself against me ever so slightly.
Jesus Christ.
"Emma," I said louder, desperation making my voice rough. "Wake up."
She responded by grinding down again, this time with purpose. Her head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of her throat.
"Emma!"
Her eyes flew open. For a moment, she just stared at me, clearly confused about why she was on top of me. She looked down at her hands, which were each clenched on one of my pecs like she was holding on for the ride of her life.
Then understanding dawned, followed quickly by horror.
She scrambled off me so fast she nearly fell off the bed. One hand pressed between her legs while the other crossed over her chest, where her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric.