Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Your eyes kinda match my underwear.”
“You like green.” His fingers slip under the elastic of my panties, caressing the place where my thigh and butt meet.
I like his green eyes. I like the way he’s looking down at me. “What are the chances your underwear is green too?”
“Want to find out?”
“Well, one of us is wearing far too many clothes,” I whisper, drawing my index finger down his torso, bumping over the line of tiny hindrances on his shirt. As I reach his belt, I tuck the tip into his waistband and take a step back. My eyes gravitate to what I felt pressed against me. Oh my. The size of that thing.
“I like the way you look at me.” Honest words and his hot look.
Man, he’s so good with his mouth. I bite back a smile at where my mind goes with that.
“There’s kind of a lot to take in.” I flatten my palm over the front of his pants, spreading my fingers wide over his very obvious interest. Just the thought of it inside me makes my stomach swoop like a fairground ride.
“I’d love to know what you’re thinking right now.”
“Just that . . .” I lift my gaze but not my head, watching his reaction as I touch him. As I curl my fingers around his solid girth. “This is gonna take some magic to make disappear.”
The corner of his mouth lifts as though hooked. God, I know I am right now. “I might have one or two tricks up my sleeve.”
“I sure hope you can deliver on those words.”
“Oh, I’ll deliver, Ryan. I’ll even let you tell me where.”
A giggle bursts free. So, so smutty. So, so delicious. “I thought you weren’t taking orders tonight.”
“We both know that’s not true.” His answer bears a lazy kind of mocking, his eyes burning with such heat and promise.
“I like the sound of that,” I whisper. Pressing my hand to his chest, I push him backward. One step, two, until the backs of his legs hit the seat of a chair.
“I know. Because you’re a bossy little thing.”
“I prefer assertive,” I purr, not sure where the words are sprouting from. But if there was ever a time to fulfill all a girl’s fantasies, that time would be now. “Sit your ass down.”
My heart pumps wildly as I follow, climbing onto his lap. The Louis-style chair is wide and easily accommodates my knees on either side of his thick thighs. I wonder if he can see that my heart is beating out of my chest or if he notices the tremble of my fingers as I tug on his bow tie. Like the ribbon on a gift, it loosens effortlessly, the soft whisper as I pull it free from his collar doing strange and wonderful things to my insides.
I trace the top button on his shirt, then flick it open as Matt tilts his head back in invitation. His throat is warm as I press my lips to the triangle of exposed skin, and he swallows as I kiss my way up his neck, groaning softly as I graze his jaw with my teeth.
I did that to him. I made him moan. I turned his eyes lust glazed and green gold. I made his breath short and his cock hard.
I rest my hands on his shoulders, pressing onto my knees, feeling every inch a goddess.
“Good fucking God, you make my mouth water.” The hungry longing in his gaze answers a deep pulse inside me. His attention dips, transfixed now between my legs.
I crook his chin with my finger. I can commiserate, my hot friend. “You look like you want a taste,” I whisper. The tiny white scar on his brow. Where did he get that from?
“Ah, darlin’. I want my mouth on you more than I want my next breath.”
His words, how they affect me.
His dark lashes flutter like my insides as I draw closer and press my mouth to his. He gives a tortured-sounding groan as I take his soft bottom lip between my teeth, his fingers tightening on my butt.
“Ah, ah.” Our breaths still mingling, I lift his hands away, placing them back on the chair arms. “No touching.”
“You can’t mean to be so cruel.” His mouth tips upward, but he keeps his hands still, into this in more ways than just the iron rod in his pants.
“I think you like that I am.” I know I’m getting off just looking at you.
Ignoring the tremble in my fingers, I unbutton the rest of his shirt, eyes avid as I push the sides wide. As I circle his flat, tan nipple, an unexpected tremor runs through him, his sharp intake of breath almost too loud for the room.
“I like that,” I whisper. The sound he made for me.
“I like you.”