Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
She needed to end this. To gather her wits and think straight. To break free from his hold.
This wasn’t smart.
It was careless and could create a huge mess.
A noise bubbled up her throat, but he swallowed it. She went to push him away but did the exact opposite by gripping his face and holding him there. He took her tongue tangling with his as encouragement and deepened the kiss. Claiming her mouth.
Using his hips, he bumped her backward until her ass pressed against the counter behind her. And when she couldn’t go any further, when she was pinned between him and the cabinets, he slid his hand from her hip to her ass to heft her up and onto the edge of the counter.
With a moan that rose from deep within her chest, she spread her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into her even closer.
Until his hard cock was hot and heavy at the apex of her thighs.
Until trickles of wetness turned her clenching pussy slick.
Everything inside her screamed for her to rip off her clothes, rip off his, too, to urge him to take her. To fuck her hard and fast until they both came.
In contrast, her brain kept whispering warnings about them needing to stop. To keep their relationship professional. That this was only the beginning of a long road ahead of them. That this was a start of an in-depth investigation and if they went any further, and if they followed their carnal desires, working together could get awkward. It could even cause it to fail.
She tried to drown out those whispers, but they persisted. They grew and became louder. Got demanding.
They had to live together. Work together. Be a team.
Not get distracted.
Sex was always a distraction.
Every damn time.
But she couldn’t pull away. Not because he was holding her, but because she hadn’t felt this alive in months. Maybe even a few years.
She’d been forced to pretend to love someone, to be attracted to someone, to be submissive for over a year.
And now… Finally…
Finally she was free from that. Free to choose. Free to enjoy what she hadn’t enjoyed for so long. To be herself once again.
When his hand squeezed her breast over her camisole and his thumb lightly strummed back and forth across her aching nipple, her back automatically arched, a clear signal for him to continue.
She dug her fingertips into his cheeks and tilted her head to give them both better access for their tongues to spar.
It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed a kiss. He was so damn good at it and she couldn’t get enough.
His kisses were like enjoying a thick, juicy porterhouse steak, meaty and satisfying, versus a dry beef patty left on the grill too long. Not the sandpaper kisses she had been forced to endure on her last assignment.
When he began rocking his erection against the V of her jeans, she matched his energy. Matched his pace. Shifting her hips against his.
She shouldn’t encourage this. She should stop this.
But she was caught up in a whirlwind of not giving a damn at this very moment. Because…
She wanted more. She wanted it all.
She wished their clothes would simply vanish. No barriers existing between them. Nothing stopping them from taking this further. From taking this to the very end.
He ground his cock against her over and over. Even with them both still wearing jeans, he quickly took her to that tipping point. It wouldn’t take much more for her to come.
Gripping his ass, she tried to pull him closer, even though it wasn’t possible, urging him to rock harder and faster against her. She needed that release.
At any second, she expected their jeans to ignite from the friction, from the heat.
She was so close.
But still too far…
Before she could urge him to take this further. To shove her over the finish line…
He turned solid against her and pulled his mouth from hers.
Damn. She had been teetering on that narrow edge. She had been only one tiny push away from falling over.
Disappointed, she opened her eyes. His face was turned away, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving. The line of his jaw sharp enough to cut glass.
Most likely, he’d been about to come, the same as her.
But he stopped.
He’d been stronger than her.
When he turned back, when his eyes opened, still full of heat but now mixed with confusion, he pressed his forehead to hers as both of them continued to pant.
“Jesus fuck,” he breathed. “This is a bad, bad idea, Nova. We can’t do this.”
She didn’t bother to respond. Because if she did…
She’d encourage him to forget this ever happened, then turn around and encourage him to continue.
Reality and desire warred within her.
Her head warned her this was a terrible idea. Her body told her otherwise.