Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
The elevator doors ping open and I back out, laughing. Tyler walks toward me with a playful yet predatory glint in his eyes that makes me tingle all over. I walk backward until I hit my door, laughing, and he pins me.
“I warned you.”
“Technically, you didn’t,” I retort, flattening against the door like it’ll get me farther away from him.
“My bad.” He grins and grabs my sides.
His fingers dig into my sensitive spots and I scream a laugh. My knees buckle, my head throws back, and I grab his arms so I don’t drop to the floor. He tickles me intensely, my shrieking laugh mixing with his rich, deep one.
“Ty! Stop!” I beg through my laughter.
“Say I’m not cute,” he bargains.
“Never!”
“No stopping then.”
I somehow manage to dig my key from my pocket and shove it into the door. I push it open forcefully and fall through the open space. I regain my footing and dump my purse on the floor, still laughing, my sides aching and hurting from both my laughter and his tickling.
“Say it,” he demands, slamming the door shut and advancing toward me.
I shake my head, still walking, still backward.
“One last chance, Liv.”
“Or what?” I challenge. “What will you do if I don’t?”
He slaps his hands against the wall on either side of my head. “I’m not sure you want to find out.”
“Fantasies?” I look directly into those intoxicating, dark eyes.
“Plans,” he murmurs.
“I like plans,” I breathe.
“No, you don’t. You’re impulsive and indecisive and spur-of-the-moment.” He runs his nose up my neck. His breath coats my skin in a swath of heat that sends tingles through me. “It’s what I love about you. I love it when you don’t think.”
“Because when I do, I overthink to hell.”
“Precisely.” He smiles against my skin. “So stop thinking.”
“Even if I think you’re cute?”
“Especially that.” He laughs, his hands settling against my waist.
I expect them to slide down, to cup my ass and pull me toward him. They don’t. They flatten against the small of my back and linger there. The heat from his hold seeps through the material of my sweater.
The tension zings. It bounces off him and me, colliding in the tiny space between us and igniting like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
My chest heaves with anticipation. I want his touch. Despite my earlier thoughts about the sex overriding the rest of our relationship, when we’re here, like this, so close, I can’t help but need him inside me. I can’t help but want to be so connected to him.
“There’s more to us.” The words leave me, barely audible, unintentional.
“What do you mean?” he whispers into my ear.
“Than our addiction. There’s more, isn’t there? It’s stronger than our addiction. More intense, yet just as dangerous. It’s lingering under the blanket of our addictions.”
Tyler eases one hand around my front and up my body until he’s cupping the back of my head. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s so much more than our addiction.”
I press my face into his chest as Nana’s words come back to me. “When you’re in love, you’ll know it.”
“We are so fucked,” I whisper into his shirt. “So fucking fucked.”
He laughs quietly. Sadly. “You think that’s what this is? Fucked?”
“Feels like it.”
He cups my face. His palms are hot against my cheeks, burning into my skin as his gaze sears into mine. “Liv, when you see you and me as something other than ‘fucked,’ we can come back to this.”
He releases me and heads for my door.
Panic constricts my lungs. I can’t breathe. He’s going. Why? Why is he going? He can’t go.
“Where are you going?” I almost shout, pressing my fists into my stomach.
“Somewhere other than here so you can think about what you and I really are.”
Going? No. No—he’s not walking away when I’ve finally told him that there’s more than just sex. It was a totally roundabout way, but I told him. And I don’t need to think.
I know what we are. We’re crazy and painful and consuming. We’re the rainbow through the storm and the rain on a hot summer’s day. We’re the light and dark, everything bad and everything good.
“Don’t go.” The words tumble from me. Desperately, my voice cracks and I beg. “Ty. Don’t. Please.”
He stops in the doorway and turns. I can only just see his eyes meet mine. My eyes are blurred from the tears filling them.
He can’t go. Shit. This is fucked because I make it so. Every time. Me. Always me.
“Please,” I whisper, looking down. “Please.”
“Fuck.” He kicks the door shut with a resounding bang and pulls me into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I grab his shirt and collapse into him. “Don’t. Don’t go.”
“I’m not.” His words are shuddery, and he soothingly runs a hand through my hair. He holds me tighter.
“Good,” I whisper, fisting his shirt tighter. “I’m sorry. I just…” I squeeze my eyes shut.