Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I lean closer, biting my lip as I fight the urge to kiss him again.
His hand rests on my thigh— heavy, hot, branding me through the thin fabric of my dress, making my feverish brain replay every second of what he did to me, over and over. Every pothole, every tiny flex of his thumb against my skin, sends electricity shooting between my legs.
I squeeze my thighs together, trying to ease the ache, but it only makes it worse. I’m still soaked from what he did to me in that booth, still haunted by the phantom of his thick fingers inside me, his rough voice in my ear telling me how badly he needed me to come while the band played less than ten feet away.
“Jesus, Elly,” he mutters under his breath. I glance up to find him staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched so tight I’m worried he’ll crack a tooth.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“No.” He turns to look at me, his eyes glittering with the same hunger that’s driving me crazy. “I’m about ten seconds from telling the driver to pull over at the closest hotel.”
Heat floods through me, making my pussy throb. “That’s not the worst idea.”
“Not this time,” he says with a tight laugh. “Once I get you into a bed, I’m not gonna want to let you out of it until morning. And we have to send Nancy home before one.”
“You’re right. You’re very wise, and very correct about the not getting out of bed part.” I bring my lips to hover by his ear as I whisper, “I can’t wait for you to be inside me. I need you so much.”
He curses softly as his hand tightens on my thigh, his fingers digging in enough to hurt in the best way. “You’re going to be the death of me, Elly. Seriously.”
“Same,” I manage, my voice shaking.
When we finally pull up to the building, Grammercy shoves money at the driver and practically drags me out of the car. The doorman does a double-take as we rush past, and I know how this must look, me with my lipstick smeared, Grammercy with his shirt untucked, both of us moving like we’re on fire.
But I can’t bring myself to care.
Because I am on fire, the flames rising higher with every moment this man isn’t naked and on top of me. We’re both on the verge of completely losing control.
The elevator doors barely close before he’s on me. My back hits the mirrored wall hard enough to rattle the handrail, but I don’t care. His mouth crashes into mine, hungry and desperate, and I meet his tongue, stroke for stroke. My hands are everywhere—in his hair, under his shirt, fumbling with his belt—and so are his. We’re starved for each other’s skin.
I’ve nearly freed his cock to my fingers when he grips my wrist, gritting out, “Wait. Cameras.”
I freeze, exhaling a ragged breath.
Shit. Right. I’d forgotten that I now live in a building fancy enough to have security cameras in the elevators.
“Sorry,” I groan, dropping my forehead to his chest.
“Never apologize for wanting to touch me,” he counters, his voice rough. “Never, baby. You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you want me half as much as I want you.”
The elevator dings before I can respond, before I can tell him that he’s making all my dreams come true in a way that doesn’t feel quite real yet.
But it is real, as real as the woman waiting for the down elevator on our floor with her dog, who shoots us a startled look as we spring apart like guilty teenagers. I bite my lip, trying to play it cool as we breeze around her with softly mumbled “hellos.”
“Should you do the talking?” Grammercy asks as we make a beeline for our door. “Or should I?”
“You,” I say. “I can’t act normal right now. I can barely walk; I want you too much.”
“Good.” The satisfaction in his voice makes me shiver. “I’m going to make you come so hard, Elly. As many times as you’ll let me. Starting by eating that sweet pussy until all I can taste is you.”
Jesus Christ.
This man.
I’m lucky my wobbly knees make it to the door.
But they do, and I end up fighting a burble of laughter as Grammercy fumbles with his keys, drops them, and swears prolifically in French.
Is that ever not going to be hot?
Probably not, I think, as I bend to retrieve them. “Here, let me. We have to help each other out.”
“I’m not sure bending over in that dress is helping right now.” His voice is strangled, but he’s smiling as he watches me slip the key into the lock. “God, you’re beautiful. Have I told you how beautiful you are? I mean, really told you, so you know that just looking at you…” He sighs. “It destroys me a little bit sometimes.”