Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
With that, Cash led him away. "Goodnight guys," he called, making it clear he didn't plan to reappear.
It should have made me uncomfortable, the insinuation that we needed to be alone.
But, well, I guess maybe we did.
There was a long silence, Edison's fingers starting to stroke up my hip, then down my thigh slightly, making my belly go liquid at the undeniable sweetness of it.
"I didn't call or text," I clarified.
"I know, love," he agreed tilting his head down slightly, his beard rubbing against my forehead as he placed a kiss there.
"Cyrus conned me into showing up," I went on.
"He's a nosy fuck," Edison agreed.
"You told them we slept together."
There was a pause, Edison taking a deep breath. "They assumed. And we didn't sleep together," he clarified. "We had sex. I would have slept there with you if you hadn't picked a useless fight."
There was no arguing with the useless comment. With some space between the incident and now, well, it did sort of seem like it could have been avoided. You know, had I not worn my damage right there on my sleeve.
"I don't let men sleep over."
"I figured," he agreed, the side of his face pressed against the top of mine.
"And I don't sleep over at a man's house either."
"Hey, you know," he started after a moment. "I sleep here. But this isn't exactly my house."
My lips curved at that, a part of me liking that he wanted me to stay enough to find a loophole to try to make it happen.
The part of my brain that didn't want to change managed to make my lips speak first. "How about we stop doing all this talking, and start doing a lot of... not talking."
"Lenny..." his voice tried to, well, whatever the manly version of 'pleading' was.
"Maybe we can talk more after," I suggested, moving to plant my legs on either side of his hips, pressing my breasts into his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Holding you to that," he promised right before his lips sealed to mine, his hands moving, one at the back of my neck, the other wrapped around my lower back as his teeth bit, tongue explored, as he stoked a desire that had been simmering just under the surface all night. And, if I were being honest, since he had walked out of my apartment a few nights before.
His body curled forward, then he moved to take his feet, holding my body to his, allowing my legs to wrap around his back to anchor me to him as his lips held mine prisoner the whole walk through the compound, down a hall, then finally to a door he slammed me up against for a long moment as his beard burned over the soft skin of my neck, as his lips and tongue traced over the flesh until I was writhing against him.
The door slammed behind us, and Edison didn't even reach for the light, just kept moving forward until something stopped him. His hands slid down my sides, then sank them into my hips, yanking my body from his, sending me free-falling for a second before I bounced onto the center of his massive bed, letting out a surprised gasp, followed by a laugh before I saw the towering shadow of Edison as he stood at the foot of the bed. I could make out his arms raising, then a precious little sliver of skin thanks to what seemed to be some kind of nightlight in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. I wanted to see him. I wanted to watch his muscles twitch when I ran my hands over them. I wanted to see his eyes as he came.
But I realized as I heard the whoosh of his jeans hitting the floor that he had no intentions of going across the room to flick on the light, that we were going to do it in utter darkness.
Somehow, that made another thrill move through me.
"Edison," my voice called as he seemed to still loom there, naked though I couldn't see, staring down at me like maybe he could.
"Yeah, love?" he asked, his fingers finding my ankle. Even through the material of my jeans, I felt another wave of desire move through me.
"Come here," I demanded, hearing the pleading in my voice, and not caring at all that he could hear it too.
"Soon," he promised, the bed indenting slightly as his knees moved up onto it.
He didn't move over me though.
His hands slid up my legs, knees, thighs, over my hipbones, in across my stomach, snagging my button and zip, then undoing them with practiced fingers. My hips lifted without me even being aware of telling them to do so. Then the material of my jeans and panties were moving down my thighs, knees, calves, then off my ankles.