Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
CHAPTER SEVEN
NADIA
Jay’s lips are on mine, soft at first, then hungry. I feel his hands on my waist, fingers splaying under my hoodie like he’s mapping out a plan of attack. The heat is sudden and all-consuming, like I’m being set on fire from the inside out. I can’t remember what I’m supposed to be doing with my hands, so I settle for grabbing a fistful of his shirt, partly to steady myself, and partly to make sure he’s real and not a conjured hallucination brought on from the stress of dealing with thirty third graders.
His tongue slides against mine, and I taste a mix of dark roast coffee and something that’s just Jay—smoky, a little sharp, a little sweet. My brain glitches. When he kisses, he’s not shy about it. It’s like he’s trying to memorize the shape of my mouth, the taste of me, and I realize, holy shit, I want him to know it all. I want him to devour me.
My pulse hammers so loud it drowns out most of my thoughts. The only sound left in the apartment is the gentle buzz of Salty’s snoring from the couch.
Jay deepens the kiss, pulling me closer until my body is flush against his. One of his hands slips under the hem of my hoodie, skimming the bare skin above my waistband, and my whole body goes rigid for a second. Not because I want him to stop. The opposite. I want him to hurry the heck up.
Jay senses it, of course. He goes still, breaking the kiss, but only enough to whisper, “You want me to stop?”
His voice is like a low-frequency earthquake. It rumbles in my bones and shakes all my resolve loose.
Heck no, I don’t want him to stop. I shake my head, and it’s embarrassing how much my head bobbles. “I’ll kill you and hide the body somewhere your brother will never find if you stop.” My hands are trembling, and I try to hide them, but Jay catches one and presses it to his chest, right over his heart. His heartbeat is steady, strong, the antithesis of my own.
“Feel that?” he says. “You make me feel like this.”
I melt. My knees go soft, and all I want is him. I lean in for another kiss. This one starts slow, almost teasing, but when he catches my lower lip between his teeth, my breath whooshes out like a popped balloon.
He takes advantage of my gasp, plundering my mouth and letting his hands wander. The world tilts as he sits back on the sofa and drags me down into his lap.
One of his hands slides up my back, under the hoodie, fingers trailing goosebumps all the way to my bra strap. The other hand goes lower, cupping my ass with enough pressure to make me squirm in his lap. His hand is huge, and the way he handles me is possessive but not greedy. Like he knows exactly how to turn me into a puddle and wants to savor every step.
I let out a stupid, high-pitched whimper, and the noise flips some kind of switch in Jay. He growls a literal, chest-deep growl and shifts, pulling me tighter against his hard body. My hands finally figure out their purpose and tangle in his soft, thick hair. I want to touch every part of him. I pull his glasses off his face and drop them somewhere in the vicinity of the side table.
He kisses me until I’m dizzy, until my lungs beg for air. He only pulls away to kiss his way down my neck, sucking little bruises at the base of my throat, then down to the collarbone exposed by my slipping hoodie. I’m making noises that don’t sound human, more like a dying animal, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Jay pauses, lips at my throat, breath hot and ragged. “Fuck, Nadia,” he whispers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I might have a clue,” I manage, which is a minor miracle. My brain is mush; I can barely form words. I reach between our bodies and give his hard cock a little squeeze.
He groans, then moves his hands to my thighs and watches me, searching my face for hesitation.
Instead, I bite my lip and shift forward, pressing my core against his thigh. The friction is electric. He exhales hard and rocks his hips up, digging his cock into my center. I groan his name. At least I think that’s what comes out of my mouth. But who really knows?
He tilts his head, lips brushing my temple. “Are you sure about this, baby?”
There it is. The chance to say no, to bail, to postpone. But the truth is, I’ve never wanted anyone more in my entire life. My hussy lady bits are running the show.