Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Damnit, Layna,” she grumbled.
The small space was already filling up with her scent. The last thing I needed was to move closer to her.
Still, I stepped forward until my whole body was behind hers. I could feel the warmth of her creeping in through my clothes, heating my skin.
Her head turned as she felt me there, her pretty blue eyes flicking up to me, her soft lips parting.
I watched for one long beat.
Fine, maybe two.
But I forced myself to look toward the cabinet, looking for what she was trying to reach.
“The, uh, glass canister on the top. That’s the coffee. Layna forgets not everyone is as tall as she is when she puts things back.”
Did she sound breathless?
Or was that my own wishful thinking?
Christ.
I needed to get a grip.
I reached up, bringing down the coffee in front of her body.
But, fuck if the strange position didn’t make my damn forearm graze her tit in the process.
Close as I was, I could hear the way her breath gasped inward, could feel the shiver that moved through her.
Fuck.
What was my move here?
Apologize?
Save both of us and pretend like it didn’t happen?
But then Gracie sucked in a deep breath and her breast pressed back into my arm. This time, I could feel the pebbled bud of her nipple, and I swear every single logical thought abandoned ship.
I was going to go to fucking hell for it, but my arm shifted, grazed. Slightly. Barely a touch at all.
But a soft little mewling sound escaped Gracie at the barely-there touch. And I couldn’t find the strength to stop myself from doing it again.
This time, the sound was a little louder and she leaned back against my chest, head tipped up, eyes closed, lips parted.
Her breath was coming in fast, shallow huffs. That flush of hers was creeping across her cheeks, down her neck; even her fucking ears were getting red.
I didn’t know the rumbling sound was growing in my chest until it escaped me.
Hearing it, another of those sweet little sounds escaped Gracie.
And I was just fucking… gone.
Fuck anyone who said I couldn’t touch her.
Fuck any consequences coming my way for doing it.
My hand slid away from the coffee container, sliding over her belly, over the curve of her hip, across her ribs, then up, fuck, up.
My fingers brushed under the swell of her breast and a current shot through Gracie, making her body shudder and a needy moan escape her lips.
The entire fucking club could burst through the doors right then. And the whole lot of them couldn’t pull me away from her.
She sucked in a breath just as my hand closed over her breast, making the air rush back out of her on a soft sigh.
Her body leaned more fully against me. Like she needed the support to keep standing as my fingers found her nipple and teased a circle around it.
Then rolled.
Pinched.
My hand flattened, squeezed.
Her breath was panting out of her by the time my other hand lifted, touching, teasing, giving in to every goddamn fantasy I’d been tormented with since the last time I’d seen her.
And it still, still, wasn’t enough.
My hands slid away, moved down, and the disappointed grumble that escaped her had my lips curving up and my cock fucking aching.
My fingers dug into her hips, turning her toward me as I spun us.
I moved forward, forcing her backward until the island stopped her.
I dug into her hips, lifted her up and off her feet, and dropped her on the countertop.
And fuck if she didn’t look up at me with pure, undiluted need.
I was immediately fucking drunk on it.
And just as quickly… addicted.
I pressed into her knees and they parted effortlessly, her soft thighs sliding around the outsides of mine.
I leaned forward.
She eased back.
Then she was flat on the countertop, staring up at me with needy, trusting eyes.
And I knew I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t fuck her.
There was no coming back from that.
But I could give.
And give.
And give.
And she could take everything she needed from me.
That, that was going to need to be enough.
I reached out, yanking down the bodice of her dress.
The seams ripped.
Her back arched.
There was no going back.
CHAPTER NINE
Gracie
The cool air kissed my overheated skin. But I couldn’t tell you if it was that or the look on Perish’s face as he looked down at me that made a shiver course through me.
I’d never been looked at like that before.
Like he was starved.
And I was the sustenance.
Like he was damned.
And I was his salvation.
My chest fluttered.
My belly twisted.
The need became a heavy pressure that had me shifting, wiggling, trying to find some sort of relief.
His gaze slid from mine down to my exposed chest. I’d never been more thankful for built-in shelf bras because once he yanked the dress down, there was nothing between us but the charged air.