Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Ethan tilted his head my way. “What kind?”
So I turned to him too. “What kinds do you like?”
I drew a slow breath, realizing I should move away or, hell, go home! But I fucking couldn’t. I hadn’t been this comfortable in ages, and my headache was finally fading. If anything, the last ten or so inches between us could fuck off too.
He hummed as his gaze flitted across my face. “I like blueberries and strawberries the best. Blackberries are never wrong either. Or apples.”
I raked my teeth across my bottom lip, which drew his attention for a hot second.
Could he be…?
“I make a good one with tart apples, caramel and oat crisp, and browned butter,” I offered. And he immediately locked eyes with me again, his interest clear as day. “And, um…strawberries with burnt sugar on top. My dad’s favorite was my mixed berry—raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries—with a little bit of rum added in.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I might need to sample all three.”
I smiled. “It’s the least I can do after you takin’ care of me tonight.” I made several others as well, way sweeter ones, but I had a feeling he’d appreciate those with a hint of saltiness.
Ethan hummed and lifted his hand again, and he felt my forehead like he’d done in the elevator.
My smile fell as the air around us suddenly felt thicker.
Was he…?
I swallowed nervously.
“What’s the verdict, Doc?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted his hand lower to touch my cheek, and it sucked the last of my doubts out of me, replacing them with fire and need.
“That you’re fucking irresistible,” he murmured.
Holy fucking shit.
Nothing in this world could’ve prepared me for that answer, and shock tore through me as he closed the distance between us and covered my mouth with his own. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. I went with it, not wanting him to hesitate for a second because I was the fumbling idiot who had to process before kissing him back. There was nothing to process, goddammit. He was clearly interested, and I could berate myself for thinking less of myself another time.
I deepened the kiss, to his obvious approval, and I reached out and fisted his T-shirt as he swept the tip of his tongue between my lips. I needed him closer. Much closer. Preferably on top of me.
Tasting him set me on fire, and he was an incredible kisser. Every movement was laced with seduction and barely contained urgency, and he unleashed some of it when I tried to pull him to me.
He kissed me harder and crawled over me, and he legit hauled me around to lie flat on the couch as if I weighed nothing. I mean, I was big, but he was large. Everywhere. And strong. So fucking strong. Sweet Jesus, he got settled between my thighs, and I was ready to keel over. Or bend over, actually.
He covered me with his body, and we made out hungrily. He wasn’t shy whatsoever, thank goodness. His hands wandered boldly. He grabbed at my hip, then slipped a hand under my shirt, settling along the curve of my side.
“Fuck,” I gasped. I exposed my neck as he kissed his way down my jaw, and he chose that moment to press his cock harder against me. I couldn’t help but whimper.
“We should stop.”
“Why?” That was the last thing I wanted. I slid my feet up along the backs of his calves to keep him in place.
“I don’t fucking know. Forget what I said.” He grabbed my jaw and kissed me forcefully before he returned his hand underneath my shirt, this time skimming higher up. I shivered violently and held his face in my hands, my head absolutely swimming in desire.
He made a rumbly sound of hunger when he cupped my breast over my bra.
It had to come off. And I didn’t wanna worry about his reaction to seeing me without clothes. I could feel the insecurities pushing closer to the surface, and I hated it. I refused to let them stop me.
His hands were turning me on beyond belief, just by touching me greedily. I had to focus on that. It wasn’t as if my clothes hid my size. He wanted me.
“Spend the night,” he whispered into a kiss. “In my bed.”
I sucked in a quick breath and nodded.
He gave me another deep kiss, then eased back and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. The lust in his eyes was so unmistakable that it made it easier for me to silence my doubts about myself. He wanted this, I repeated mentally. He wanted me. I turned him on.
He got off the couch, doing fuck-all to hide how hard he was in his sweats, and he extended a hand to me.
“I don’t wanna wait another minute,” he said.
I flushed and slipped my hand into his, and he tugged me up to my feet. Then we were walking into his bedroom, where a king-sized bed was waiting for us. Only the right-side nightstand lamp was lit, and it put me at ease to get out of the spotlights, literally.