Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“Lucas, are you okay?” I hear Quinn’s voice in front of me.
The world tilts behind my lids, and I don’t recognize what I’m feeling, but it’s not confusion. Or even fear.
I let my head fall back, warm water covering my head. I’m not a murderer.
I’m in control, and Hugo and Drew aren’t on the same side.
I feel her hands on my face. “What happened to you?”
I guess she’s not mad anymore. Opening my eyes, I let my forehead fall to hers and take her waist in my hands. She stiffens, her hands dropping to her sides, but she doesn’t move away.
“I know I should leave you alone,” I say as the water pours down my face. “I know I should find someone else. You know why I don’t?”
“You’re changing the subject,” she retorts. “What happened to you?”
I clench my jaw, swallowing before I say, “Because I know that when I return for someone’s wedding, or someone’s funeral, in five or ten years, I’ll see you across the room with some guy and feel like he’s touching someone who doesn’t belong to him.”
He’s touching someone who belongs to me. That’s why I can’t let her go.
Even now, I know. I’ll always feel it between us.
Her brows pinch together. “Lucas…”
I run my knuckles down her cheek as my thumb glides down the bridge of her nose. “And I’ll think that even if I have another woman on my arm.”
Quinn is mine.
She shakes her head slowly. “Stop—”
“I don’t want to,” I interject, that particular truth so easy to spill. “I don’t want to stop. Believe me, I wish I did.”
I wish I could do what was best for her, but for all of my faults, the most prominent seems to be greed. I want her again and again and again and…
I cup her ass in both hands and press us together, eating up her mouth in soft, quick nibbles and kisses. She’s so tender, her skin tasting like peaches. Her hands come up to push against my chest, but her mouth still opens for me. She lets me bite and lick and kiss while her eyes close like she’s on a roller coaster and has butterflies in her stomach.
God, she’s beautiful.
Watching her start to kiss me back, I unbutton her little red shorts and slip a hand in, sliding a finger inside of her.
She jolts, arching her back and gripping my arms. “Oh, God,” she moans. “Not here. What are you doing?”
I slip in a second one, pumping them in and out as I look down into her big eyes. Fingers soaked, I swirl them over her clit.
“Getting you out of my system,” I nearly choke out. “You want to get me out of yours?”
Her eyes narrow in anger, and she bares her teeth.
And she nods.
“Fuck…” I growl, gathering her in my arms and twisting her around to pin her against the shower wall. Thin strips of light peek through the wood panels on all three sides, and I kick my leg behind me, slamming the door shut. A few birds chirp as they flap their wings overhead, and the showerhead above her splashes water between us.
I massage her tongue with mine as I pull her tank top down her arms, baring her breasts, and push her shorts and panties down her legs and off her feet.
Gazing down into her face, I rub soft circles over her clit, feeling her bend her knee to open up for me a little.
Pushing two fingers inside of her again, I almost shiver at the tight heat. She’s tighter than my fucking hand. Jesus.
She whimpers, twisting her head away, and I growl in her ear, “I don’t want to stop, and you don’t want me to.”
Crooking my fingers again and again, I coax her gently, making her eyes roll and her lids flutter.
Taking her hand, I guide it to her pussy, watching her fingers take over. Backing up just a foot, I feast on the scene in front of me—Quinn with her top at her waist and the straps down her arms, one hand opening her and the other playing. Her breasts shake with her breathing, wet hair hanging in her eyes. She performs, never taking her eyes from mine.
My cock swells, pumping with blood, and I almost don’t give a shit that I don’t have protection.
Jutting my hand under one of the dispensers, I pump conditioner into my palm as I unfasten my jeans. Her eyes go wide, watching me pull out my shaft and stroke the length, my fist slow and tight around it. “I don’t have a condom again,” I tell her.
But I’m fucking coming on her stomach. I’ll damn well be her first everything, if not her only.
Leaning my arm on the wall behind her, I pump my cock, thirsty for her taste, and my teeth aching for a bite of her. Her supple breasts look like heaven, and my lips hum with the need to feel them. My memory is clear on how soft she is. Of how I want to run my mouth over every inch, leaving nothing unexplored.