Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
As if she has any right to lecture me. My blood is lava by the time I grunt, “That’s none of your business.”
“Just like my friendship with Wren is none of your business. And as for whether I feel like going swimming or not,” she continues, “that’s none of your business, either. Leave me alone.”
Leave me alone, or else. That threat echoes faintly in the back of my mind, but it gets louder with every beat of my heart. Every second I spend looking into those lying, evil eyes that burn with the kind of fire that wouldn’t go out if I threw her in the pool.
“You have no fucking idea…” I whisper, catching my breath when my gaze lands on her lips. It’s already a warm night, but what flares up in me is warmer. Hot. Boiling. “… how much I wish I could.”
What am I thinking? Whatever it is, it needs to stop. Now. Because from where I’m standing, with her body so hot and soft under mine, it makes all the sense in the world to do what my dick is demanding.
“Get off me.” I can barely hear her whisper, but it’s the warmth of her breath on my skin that makes my mouth go dry.
She goes stiff at the touch of my lips to hers, arching against the car while a gasp stirs in her throat. Is she surprised? So am I. Surprised at how good she tastes. How sweet. Her lips are firm, but it takes nothing to make them yield under mine.
It takes nothing to pry them apart with my tongue, too. To slide my tongue against hers, to stroke slowly inside her mouth. At first, I think the hands she runs up and down my back are trying to grab my clothes, to pull me away. Only when she moans do I understand its desperation. Like she needs to be close. Like she’s as hungry for this as I am. The flash of heat, the primal urge pounding through my veins. She feels it, too.
And I fucking hate us both for it.
That doesn’t stop me from running my hand down the side of her body. The throaty moan that stirs up makes me want more. I have no control over what my body is doing now. I can only go with it, cupping her tit before tracing the curve of her waist. Groaning when it flares into a full hip. My fingers press tight against it, and now she whines, needy.
I can’t pretend I don’t like it. Just like I can’t pretend my dick’s not about to burst through my shorts. I could screw her here and now, against this car, where anyone could see. I might have to, or else I’ll explode.
She comes up for air with a gasp, letting her head fall back so my lips can find her jaw, her throat. When she moves her hips, I move with her, grinding against her, my hand slipping lower until it flirts with the hem of her dress. Her leg is so soft, smooth, practically begging my fingers to creep up to where it’s hot and probably wet.
She stiffens with a gasp and pulls her leg free from my grasp, but not fast enough. My fingertips brush against something rough, something very unlike the soft skin I was touching. There’s no time to think about that once Maya’s palm makes contact with my cheek.
It doesn’t really hurt—no more than a sting. But the force of it and the way she caught me by surprise makes my head snap around to the side. “You fucker,” she whispers, then shoves me away with both hands.
“What the fuck?” At least I’m not so hard anymore. I’m also fucking disgusted with myself. What the hell was I thinking? Why would I make myself vulnerable like that? With her, of all people?
“Get away from me,” she snaps. This time, when she shoves a hand into her purse, she finds her keys. “Get away and stay away.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” I snarl as she gets in the car. “Run away. You’re good at that, aren’t you? Don’t fucking face anything. Just run.”
All that earns me is a single, scornful look before she slams the door and shoves the key into the ignition. I’m breathing heavily and a little dizzy, what with all the blood making its way back to my brain.
Still, I’m clearheaded enough to know one thing by the time she speeds away. She definitely stopped us at the right time.
4
MAYA
“Damn you.” I don’t know how many times I’ve said those words on the drive home. As it is, I barely remember the drive. One of those examples of a person’s body moving on autopilot. Muscle memory. Going through the motions of finding my way while my brain was too overwhelmed to process a thought.