Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“The dorm will do, but are you sure you have time? I don’t want you to be late.”
“I have a little time.”
We walk across the yard, past the student bookstore and the caf, without saying another word. I thought when I saw him again—if I ever saw him again—I’d ask him a dozen questions, tell him all kinds of things he wouldn’t even care about, but the reality is much different. I probe the silence to see if it’s uncomfortable, awkward, but it’s not. It’s the two of us alone in our heads, but seemingly content to simply be together.
“There’s a shortcut through the arboretum,” I tell him.
The arboretum is not huge, but it’s lush, stocked with several varieties of trees, plants, and flowers, a lot of it not in bloom until spring. There are a few circles of grass where students sneak away to read or just spread out a blanket and rest in this rare patch of solitude on campus. It’s designed so that for one stretch, an arch of vines covers the path. It narrows and darkens, allowing only fragments of moonlight to poke through.
“This is one of my favorite spots on campus,” I tell him, my volume set to secret even though we’re the only ones here. This place feels more holy than the school chapel, where the girls dress up on Sunday to impress one another. There’s no one here to impress except the trees.
And now Monk.
“Mine too.” He catches my wrist, stopping our progress. “Seems like the perfect place.”
“The perfect place for what?”
I peer up at him. The moonlight licks across his face, illuminating the desire on his strong features. He slides one arm around my waist and tugs me closer.
“For our first kiss.”
The absolute focus of his stare steals my breath, like our solitude here is not an illusion and that I’m truly the only person in the world.
“Is that what’s about to happen?” I ask breathlessly. “Our first kiss?”
“Unless you tell me you don’t want it.” His arm tightens and draws me against the hard line of his body. “Then yeah.”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since Petra said I couldn’t,” I whisper, torn between staring at his eyes and his beautiful mouth.
He drops his forehead to mine and splays his hands across my back, pressing my breasts into his chest.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you in that club,” he says, his breathing growing more ragged. “It felt like the whole world tilted.”
“For me, too.” I reach up and brush a thumb over his lips, so soft in the stark planes of his face.
“And tonight when you were talking about the stories you want to write, it’s how I feel, not just about my music, but what I’m supposed to do with it. I could hardly believe what I was hearing.” He shakes his head, closes his eyes. “You’re a dream, Verity.”
“No.” I grip the nape of his neck and lift up onto my toes to whisper the last words over his lips. “This is real.”
He grips my waist and pulls me up the last few centimeters until our mouths meld. At the first touch of our lips, at the first brush of our tongues, we groan together. And it’s relief and desperation wrapped in one sound, one moment. It’s not like any first kiss I’ve ever had, tentative or searching. It’s instantly possessive, like he has been waiting a lifetime to claim me and I finally get to make him mine. His hands glide down my back and grab handfuls of my ass, and he squeezes. I gasp into his mouth, the pressure of his hands on me like that stealing my breath.
“You feel so good,” he says between kisses. “Shit, the fact that I’ve seen you naked and tasted your pussy, but never tasted your mouth… never kissed you till now…”
He stops talking, licks into me, sucks my lips like he wants his kisses to be flagrant, now that he’s allowed. There’s a defiance in the sensual onslaught, the way he fucks my mouth with his tongue. I don’t care where we are. I lose track of our place in this world, and this moment, this kiss, becomes the world. It doesn’t matter that anyone could walk by. That campus police could catch us on patrol. I wrap one leg around him, drawing us closer so I can feel him between my legs.
“Jesus,” I pant when he is pressed big and rigid against me right where I need him the most. My hand slips between us to take him in my palm and squeeze. “I need it, Monk. I’ve needed it since you came down my throat.”
He grips my jaw, tugging my mouth open, diving back in with aggressive thrusts and reverent licks. His hands are everywhere. My waist, my ass, my back, my breasts.