Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I hate her, and she doesn’t even exist.
I get off the bed and grab my toiletries bag before heading into the attached bathroom. Only Elli Adler would get a chalet like this, with bathrooms so big that three rooms are connected to it. It’s kinda crazy and over the top, but that’s Elli Adler. As I lock the door to the very small room off to the side, I can’t decide if it’s a nursery or a weird-ass office. Maybe a closet. It doesn’t even have a door to the hallway. Weird. I turn on my heel and head to the other door. But before I can get there, a rather large, shirtless male stops midstep in the doorway.
I freeze as Quinn’s gaze meets mine, and I swear this crazy shit only happens in crappy rom-com movies—and my life.
The fuck?
But for real, why does he have to be so sexy?
I don’t know many doctors who have time to work out, but Quinn does, and his body shows it. Ripples of muscles and shoulders that are meant to be bitten. He used to be skinny and small, but then he hit puberty and became this masterpiece. I went through puberty, bled for a solid two weeks, and broke out everywhere. Not Quinn. Nope. He got sexy. I tell myself not to look anywhere but his eyes, even though his eyes are dangerous, but of course, my eyes move along his body to find he’s in only a towel.
Well. Fuck. Me.
My fingers bite into my bag as I meet his gaze again. Neither of us moves, nor do we speak as we hold each other’s gaze. His blue eyes are so tender, so bright, and concerned. He slowly slips his tongue out of his mouth, wetting his lips, and I swear to God, I almost explode.
I miss that mouth.
“I didn’t know Stella was here.”
I bring in my brows. “What?”
“She braided your hair, I assume?”
Instantly, I move my hand to my hair, which makes my shirt rise up, and I watch as he takes an eyeful. Heat blazes through us, my heart starts to pound, and my skin starts to tingle. “Ugh, yeah. Um—”
“I love your hair like that,” he admits shyly. “It always reminds me of…”
His voice trails off because he doesn’t have to say it. Our first time together, my hair was in a tight braid that Stella had done before I left for Boston. I’d had no intention of hooking up with Quinn. We had always been close friends and got along great.
It was late one night; we were up playing video games and high on sugar. He admitted he was still a virgin, and I decided I wanted him to be my first. Quinn has always made me feel safe and has always been there for me. It seemed only natural for me to want that. And now, as I gaze at him, I know why.
Because our bodies yearn for each other.
“Yeah,” I say softly, and then I jerk my thumb behind me. “Um, I guess I’ll go so you can take a show—” My sentence is cut off when he wraps his hand around my wrist. He’s suddenly in front of me, towering over me in all his beautiful glory. I swallow hard as I feel the heat of him spread over me in waves. He brings his other hand up, taking my jaw and running his thumb along my chin. I feel the towel hit my bare feet, and I gasp, breathless.
“Quinn, I don’t think this is a good idea,” I whisper. I’m not sure if I’m saying that for him or for me.
His eyes burn into mine. Gone is the concern, replaced by the same hot lust that has me quivering between my thighs. “I miss you, E.” Quinn drops his head, just enough so that his lips are at my cheek. I take in a quick breath, feeling every inch of him against my thigh. His lips are warm, soft against my cheek as he says, “I miss you so much, it hurts.”
My eyes drift shut, and if anyone asks, I blacked out.
Or better yet, I didn’t have control of my body.
I rise on my toes, turning my face so our lips meet. He drops his hand from my wrist and takes me around my waist, pulling me off my feet and into his hard, burning body. I go willingly, wantonly, and wrap my arms around his neck. Our kisses are demanding and feel as if they’re desperate. Maybe they are, because I feel like if I don’t kiss him, I’ll cry. His lips fit with mine in a way I’ve never experienced. He tastes like cocoa and peppermint. Quinn holds me, and I hear the door shut and then lock. He turns and sits me on the counter, stepping between my legs and taking my face in his hands. He strokes my cheeks as he draws the kisses from me. Sucking on my bottom lip, he bites softly, causing me to cry out in longing. I run my fingers up the ripples of his back to his shoulders, where I dig my nails into his flesh as I move to the edge of the counter. I feel his cock between my thighs, throbbing, and I want to scream out in joy. He slides his mouth from mine, kissing my chin, my jaw, before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. I gasp, arching into him, and once more, my body isn’t mine. I find myself rubbing my body against him like we’re here to cop a quick feel, but I know neither of us could have only that. He groans against my neck and then bites ever so gently. I squeeze his shoulder, slowly stroking him with my panty-clad pussy. His hands are shaking against my ass, and the sounds he makes are music to my ears. He starts to guide my ass slowly, so fucking slow it hurts, along him, and both of us are shaking with want.