Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Ryan’s hand finds mine on the center console. He doesn’t look away from the road, but his thumb traces the line of my knuckles with a slow, deliberate pressure.
I watch the way his profile is carved by the passing lights. The sharp line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the way his eyelashes cast shadows against his cheek. My chest feels crowded, like I’ve swallowed something too large to digest. It’s a terrifying sort of fullness.
When we pull into the parking garage under his building, he doesn’t turn the engine off immediately. He just sits there, hands still on the wheel, staring at the darkened front of his home. The silence stretches, thick and charged, the kind of quiet that precedes a storm. I can feel the heat radiating from him in the small space, a physical pull that makes the air between us feel like it’s vibrating.
"Do you want to move in with me?" he asks. He finally turns to me, his eyes dark and unreadable in the shadows.
"It’s so soon," I say, though my heart is already picking up a frantic, uneven rhythm. "Are you sure you’re ready for this?"
"I don’t want to spend another second without you." He says it without heat, but with a finality that makes my breath catch. He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against the sensitive skin of my neck. "I want to know you’re in my home, in my bed, and all fucking mine."
I draw in a deep breath, knowing that I’ll regret it if I don’t take this chance. “I can’t just move out and abandon Mia. Rent is painful in Seattle, but I wouldn’t be against starting to move my things into your place.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” He leans over and kisses me to seal the deal.
He helps me out of the SUV and walks hand in hand with me to the elevators. It takes a freaking eternity for the elevator to finally come. I’m about to self-combust when the doors finally slide open. Luckily, the ride up to his floor is quick.
He unlocks the door, and we stumble in, the door clicking shut behind us with a heavy, definitive sound. The lights stay off, the interior bathed in the pale glow of the moon filtering through the windows.
He doesn't wait to reach his bedroom. As soon as we’re clear of the foyer, he spins me around, pinning me against the cool surface of the hallway wall. His mouth finds mine with a hunger that feels like it’s been building since he walked into my parents’ backyard. It’s a hard, demanding kiss, tasting of mint and something deep and masculine that is uniquely Ryan.
My hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, my fingers tangling in the soft cotton. He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my entire body. When he pulls away, his breath is ragged, his forehead resting against mine. His scent is everywhere, filling my lungs until I can’t think of anything else.
"God, you’re fucking perfect," he rasps, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my skirt riding up as he carries me toward the stairs. Every step he takes jars our bodies together, a rhythmic friction that makes my toes curl. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, my teeth grazing the corded muscle of his shoulder.
His breath hitches, and I feel his hands flex on my hips like he’s losing his battle with self-control. Thank God, because I’m about to start climbing him like a tree.
We barely make it to the bedroom. Next thing I know, my back hits the door, and he sets me down just long enough to yank my dress up and off. His mouth never leaves my skin. The silk is gone in a hot second. I have about two seconds to realize I’m standing there in nothing but my favorite black lace panties before he’s peeling those down, too.
"Fuck me," he rasps, voice all gravel and desperation. "How do you get hotter every time I look at you?"
I don’t have answers. My brain has checked out. I’m too busy tracing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, loving the way his pulse jumps under my lips. I yank at his belt, fingers fumbling with the stupid buckle. He grins, just a flash, and pulls back enough to strip himself down, shirt and jeans hitting the floor in record time.
Holy hell. He’s pure muscle and dark, smoldering need. My jaw actually drops. I can't even be embarrassed about it. His cock is already hard, flushed, heavy against his thigh. I reach out to wrap my hand around him, but he’s faster.