Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Not the movie. You.” Frowning, he shook a finger at me, and for the first time, I couldn’t tell whether he was serious. Apparently, the dog was also confused, dashing over to a low footstool to watch us with wary eyes.
“Me? What did I do?” As far as I was concerned, I’d been an amazing boyfriend all evening. Not that it had been difficult. A little small talk with the Willmore family, a little football speculation, some flirty looks, and touching Ambrose whenever the urge struck me. Simple. Almost scarily so.
“You’re a ringer.” He laughed, which made me relax some, but there was still a pained edge to his chuckle. “You said you were bad at this boyfriend business. But you’re unbelievably good at faking being into me.”
I shrugged as I undid another button. “I wanted to kiss you. I wasn’t faking that. You make it easy to be a decent boyfriend.”
“And the looking at me all damn movie like you wanted to jump my bones later?” Tilting his head, he considered me with a long look that was easier to decipher, heat burning in his eyes.
“You sound hopeful.”
“Maybe I am. That couch doesn’t look comfortable.” He jerked his head toward the small loveseat in the suite’s sitting area.
I’d checked earlier when Ambrose had been in the shower, and it did pull out into a bed. However, at some point in the evening, I’d put aside any thought of using it. I had no business sleeping with a client, but I was only human. My resistance was paper-thin and shredding more by the second.
“It does look rather short. And stiff. And scratchy.” I ran a hand down the nubbly wool upholstery.
“I’m all those things in a cuddlier package.” Ambrose’s smile was so damn eager that it lit fire to the last scraps of my ability to turn him down. “And I come with a king-size bed bonus.”
“Hmm.” I pretended to need to think, glancing over at the bed, which was massive, loaded with pristine white linens, and so poofy even my forty-year-old ass was tempted to bounce on it. “That is a pretty awesome bed.”
“It is.”
“And you are cuddly, even if you stole all the pillows last night. Maybe you’re the bonus, not the bed.”
“I’m more than happy to be your reward for putting up with my family.” Stepping closer, he put a hand on my shoulder, and I leaned into the touch.
“They’re not that bad. I like Hester’s new in-laws, and your niblings are fun.” I turned to face him, standing near enough to feel the warmth rolling off his body.
“They are.” He placed his other hand on my neck, pulling me closer, the fabric of our shirts brushing. I hissed, and he smiled slyly. He had me, and he knew it. “You still deserve a treat though.”
He leaned in, moving slowly. More than enough time for me to stop him, but I was well past putting on the brakes. He brushed his lips over mine, a soft, sweet contact that made me groan. I parted my lips, and he traced them with the tip of his tongue before pulling back slightly.
“This okay? Kissing?” His voice was husky but a bit tentative, not unlike the look his dog was giving us. “We could just repeat last night if you’re more comfortable with that…”
“I like kissing.” I ran a hand down his stubbly jaw. I appreciated him giving me the option, though, not simply assuming. “Not all the time, but I’m into it with you.”
“Good.” He repeated the gesture, a gentle kiss that was light years from the drunken tonsil hockey I sometimes didn’t have the patience for. Kissing could feel too…close. Claustrophobic, almost. But with Ambrose, kissing was definitely a turn-on. Part of that was how every damn thing about Ambrose seemed to rev me up, but part of it was also how easy he made it to relax into the kissing. There was a certain finesse to the way he kissed. His lips and tongue were skilled instruments that he employed delicately, not unlike our SEAL bomb technicians—taking forever on the setup details. The big boom was coming, and we both knew it, but Ambrose seemed to take great pleasure in the smallest of contacts.
And once I figured out that he was in no hurry to move on to the mutual explosions, I started appreciating the things I’d never taken time to notice before. The rasp of our tongues against each other. The contrast between sharp teeth and a hot mouth. How perfectly his lower lip fit mine. The rush of pleasure from sucking on his tongue. The way he sagged against me the more I explored, letting me take over, groaning and gasping like I had a hand on his dick already.
“Definitely not sleeping on the couch.” He steered me toward the bed, pausing near the foot to take over unbuttoning my shirt. And damn, I liked this. Liked being fussed over. Undressed by eager fingers. Given soft, teasing kisses as he pushed my shirt off. I was a sure thing. I didn’t need seduction, but Ambrose made me crave it all the same.