Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” she whispers and when I peek down at her, that spark hits again and this time it slips past my racing heart, down lower, to the one part of me that I wish wouldn’t interject right now. I clear my throat and think of every possible thing I can to soften my growing erection.
What am I? A freaking school boy going through puberty?
With heat rising up my neck, I’ve never been more embarrassed but luckily, Bree doesn’t seem to notice.
“I would do this. They all told me not to mess it up and look at me now,” she jokes as she pushes the door open with a soft creak. I laugh along with her, taking in her foyer. It’s modern but quaint. The houses on Cedar Lane have been here for years and I can tell she’s put work into her home. The wall going up the stairs is a dark green, almost emerald with white and copper accents of picture frames and paintings. To the left, it’s a soft cream and leads straight into her kitchen.
She leaves me as I stand in the foyer, taking one step and then another. “See I’m fine.”
“Just have a seat and let me have a look at you,” I tell her and then my cock reminds me of every fantasy I’ve ever had of being this close to Aubrey Peters.
She leads me through the kitchen, which is tidied up with a fresh bouquet of wildflowers in a vase in the middle of the island, to the cozy living room. It’s painted a soft gray, but there are pops of color everywhere you look. From the pale blue crochet throw blanket on the back of the deep navy velvet sofa to the abstract painting hung on the wall behind it that contains nearly every color in varying smudges.
All of the feminine touches feel like her.
“It’s a little much, I know,” she jokes as she lowers herself to the sofa.
“Not judging,” I hold up both hands and then lower myself to my knees in front of her. I’m careful as I take her ankle in my hand.
“I’m fine. I already feel just fine,” she reassures me and my knowledge agrees with her. No bruising, no swelling. “I’m just a little clumsy when my crush is staring at my behind,” she comments and when I glance up to ask how she knows where I was looking, she has her phone in her hand.
She smirks at me, the sexiest most tempting smirk I’ve ever seen on a woman. “Lauren text me and it caught me off guard.”
“Ah,” I nod, letting her foot drop easily, “so it’s my fault?”
“I’m not saying that,” she laughs but then bites down on her lower lip, “but a kiss might make it up to me.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “You don’t waste time, do you?” I wonder if she’s feeling the same tension I am.
“I suppose it depends on how you look at it, I’ve had a crush on you since high school,” she almost whispers the confession and leans forward just slightly. Unfortunately, it’s just as I was getting up and to avoid her falling into me, her hands come out, landing on my chest.
Her hands on mine, and this position, I can’t help but wrap my arm around her waist and pull her off the sofa, landing a small kiss on her lips.
I anticipate her standing, but she lowers herself to the floor beneath me, deepening the kiss, teasing me, tempting me, and I have never wanted for more in my life.
Aubrey
My chest rises and falls as my breathing quickens. I swear I must be blushing from head to toe with how hot my entire body is all of a sudden. He doesn't move and I don’t dare move either. My gaze shifts lower though, back to his lips before bringing them to his baby blue gaze. The spark is undeniable and at this moment every single dating rule doesn’t mean a damn thing.
The one specifically about waiting for three dates before sex. With his masculine scent filling my lungs and his large frame surrounding me as I lay under him, all I can think about is how badly I want him to take me right here. It’s almost like a dream come true, one I’ve had a hundred times before.
It’s that memory of the dreams I’ve had time and time again that makes me bite my lip. I know I shouldn’t do it, every rule book would tell me not to. But I’m too damn scared that I’ll never get this chance again.
With my heart pounding, I lift my lips to his, propping myself up this time to reach him. At first his lips are firm, his gaze hesitant, but when I kiss him again, his lips mold to mine and I part his seam with the tip of my tongue.