Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
My heart stutters. “Barefaced and cardigan’d?”
He lifts a hand, tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Exactly that.”
The space between us narrows.
And I feel it—that shift.
Because I don’t know a man has ever been more genuine with me in my life. It’s not something I’m guessing at. I feel it with him. I measure it by the way he looks me straight in the eye and by the unyielding tone of his voice.
He likes me for me.
“Can I admit something?” I ask.
He nods, his expression open and accepting.
“I’m nervous,” I say, focused on his chest. “Not because I don’t want to be… close to you. But because I do.”
His hand moves to my chin and he forces my gaze up. “You don’t have to be anything tonight but exactly who you are. I don’t expect anything, Win.”
But I do.
Not because I owe him anything. Not because he’s waiting for it.
But because I want this—with him.
“I know and I appreciate you being so clear about that.”
And then… I go to my tiptoes, one hand on his chest, and kiss him. Not so sweetly he doesn’t understand my intent, but not deeply either.
Just one kiss—that’s all I need. To prove this pull between us should not be dismissed. To confirm that what I’m craving isn’t one-sided.
The world narrows, goes quiet, and his gaze stays fixed on mine. His face is unreadable, and a creeping doubt slips in—maybe I’ve misread everything. Maybe this move was a mistake.
I start to shift back, second-guessing myself, but his hand curls around my nape, holding me steady.
Not rough, but absolute, and a rush shoots down my spine.
Not fear or uncertainty.
Pure electricity.
Lucky’s eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up—warm, devastating. Then he kisses me, and everything inside me lights up. His hands cradle my face as he steps in close, all heat and power pressing against me, sinking into my skin.
There’s no pause as his mouth claims mine, tongue sliding in like he already knows I’ll meet him halfway. He’s confident, unhurried, like he’s got nothing to prove but wants to prove it all the same. I press into him, feeling the solid warmth of his body, the way his hands brace at my waist before gliding up my back.
Something primal tears loose from my chest—a sound I didn’t know I could make, all hunger and need.
Lucky answers with a low groan into my mouth, one arm locking around my waist to pull me flush against him, hips pressed tight to mine.
And, oh God. The hard length of him against me makes my legs go weak, heat blooming low and fast.
I break the kiss, breathless and certain, and there’s no question what I want tonight. Desire crashes over me, sharp and consuming, and I need him to know I want him just as fiercely. “Will you stay the night?” I ask.
Lucky’s body jerks slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
Before I commit, I do a mental review of the bra and underwear I put on after my shower, and they’re sexy enough. Not Victoria’s Secret level, but not granny panties either.
I nod, biting into my lower lip. I slide a hand between our bodies, gripping him through the fabric.
Lucky groans against my lips, hips surging into my touch. “Jesus Christ, Winnie. I dare you to do that again.”
My laugh is husky as I take the dare, tightening my hold and stroking him through his pants as his mouth drops to my neck.
When his teeth graze my skin, a shiver ripples through me, and then his lips trail up to my ear. “Couch or bedroom?”
“Bedroom,” I gasp as he nips at the sensitive lobe.
It happens so fast. I’m swept into his arms and he carries me to my bed, lays me on it and follows right behind.
Lucky’s blue eyes catch mine for a breath, then drift to my mouth, like he’s deciding exactly how he wants to devour me.
And then he does—his lips and tongue claim me so completely I hardly register the way he parts my thighs, sliding in close.
I don’t hesitate. I tilt my hips, open for him, and hook my legs around his, utterly unashamed.
He kisses me like he owns me—deep, unrelenting—as his hips grind hard against my center and his hands fumble with need, tugging at our clothes. My fingers slip under his shirt, skimming the muscles along his back.
Without pulling away from my mouth, he reaches down and unties my joggers with one hand.
What really stuns me is how smoothly his hand slips into my panties, his fingertip landing right on my clit with a slow, deliberate stroke.
My body jolts, hips thrusting instinctively, a gasp tearing from my mouth into his.
I’ve touched myself, used my vibrator plenty, but with everything happening right now—the heat, the pressure, the pace—I’m already spiraling. This is Lucky Branson touching me and it won’t take much to push me over the edge.