Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Josh and Reed are still talking in each other’s ears and laughing, so I begin dancing in place to the music, marveling at just how little I can feel my face. Or toes. Or brain. I’m verging on drunk, actually. And it feels hella good.
“Thanks, bro,” I hear Josh say. “I owe you one.”
“You bet.”
Josh turns his gaze on me and smiles like a wolf. He leans into my ear and snakes his arm around my waist.
“You still going commando?” he asks, right in my ear. His hand migrates down to my ass.
“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” I say. “Right after you kiss me and concede to my terrorist demands,” I say.
He laughs. “You mean after you kiss me and give up your fucking jihad.”
I shake my head and retract my lips completely into my mouth, signaling my lips are unkissable until he gives me what I want.
He laughs and grabs my hand. “Come on, Madame Terrorist. It’s time to dance.”
Sixteen
Kat
Holy hell.
If dancing is any indication whatsoever of a man’s sexual prowess, then Josh Faraday is a sex god. Oh my God, the way he swivels and rocks those hips makes me yearn for him to grind them just like that on top of me while wearing nothing but a cocky smile. Holy shitballs. This man can move.
The song playing is “Want To Want Me” by Jason Derulo and Josh knows every word. He’s singing the song to me, serenading me—and with so much charm and swagger, I can’t help but laugh with glee. I can’t remember having this much fun dancing with a guy—with my girlfriends, sure. But with a guy? A hot guy? No. Usually, when I’m dancing with a really hot guy, I’m so concerned about coming off as sexy and desirable to him, I forget to just let loose and have fun. But Josh makes it impossible to feel anything but totally uninhibited. Oh my God, I’m laughing too much to even try to be sexy. I throw my hands above my head and wiggle my hips and giggle uncontrollably, mirroring Josh’s confident movement, and he laughs his ass off at every little thing I do. And the crazy thing is, having fun like this is making me so wet, I’m worried I’m gonna drip down my bare thigh in this shorty-short dress.
As the song reaches its conclusion, Josh looks up toward the balcony and locks eyes with Reed. He gives Reed a thumbs up and Reed returns the gesture. When Josh’s eyes dart back to me, he levels me with a smile that makes me feel like he’s planning to put me in an oven with some onions and potatoes.
The song abruptly changes to a hip-hop song I don’t know. But, clearly, Josh does—because as the rapper begins spitting out lyrics, Josh mouths every single word along with him. Oh my God, Josh is freaking hilarious right now. He’s thugging out to the song, going all in, shaking his ass and owning it. Oh man, I’ve never seen a concoction of maleness quite like this before. He’s raw and smooth and funny and hot and goofy all at the same time. He’s redefining sexy for me, right here and now. He’s just... wow.
I listen intently to the lyrics of the song, trying to plumb the depths of my dance-club memories, but nope, I don’t recognize it. I pull out my phone, activate my Shazam app—and just when the song title displays on my phone—“Kiss Me” by Lil Wayne—Josh begins singing along to the chorus. “Kiss me,” Josh raps, grinding his hips like he’s auditioning for Magic Mike. “Kiss me.”
I laugh. What a sneaky little bastard. And a hilarious one.
He inches closer and closer to me, still rapping and grinding his hips ferociously, until, suddenly, and with great dramatic flair, he grabs me, pulls me into him, and grinds his body into mine with enthusiastic thrusts to the beat of the music. “Kiss me,” he says to me, his lips on my ear, his intoxicating cologne wafting into my nostrils. His strong hands encircle my waist and grip my back as he presses his undulating body into mine. His lips migrate to my cheek, where they trail the length of my jawbone. His tongue laps at my neck.
Oh muh guh. Playtime’s over. Shit just got real.
His hard-on presses into me, thrusting, grinding, making my knees weak—and, holy shitballs, there’s no mistaking the size of that hard bulge, even through the man’s pants. Good lord. Josh doesn’t need to chain me to a donkey—he’s got it covered on his own.
He parts my legs with his thigh and grinds his hard dick right into my clit, over and over, still rapping and groping me as he does.
I throw my head back.
Yes.
My clit ignites inside my panties. I’m beginning to warp and ache. My skin is beginning to prickle.