Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Me too. For food, I mean. Yes, food,” I stuttered, trying to find my cool.
Ian watched me with a smirk.
“There’s an awesome pizza place in Brooklyn that boasts the best pie in the city. The least I can do is buy you dinner after subjecting you to that horror. I bet you wish you were back in the war zone now,” I joked.
Ian stopped us at the curb, hand on the door to our car. “You have no idea how happy I am to be right here. All that,” he gestured to the hotel, “was worth every fucking second cause it meant I was with the most beautiful woman in the room. Every guy in there wished he was in my shoes.”
I stared up at him, unprepared for that response and unprepared for the emotions it garnered within me.
Luckily Ian didn’t wait for a verbal reply, which I was thankful for. He opened the door. “And there’s no way you’re paying a dime for the pizza.”
I couldn’t argue because the door shut behind me. I sighed and leaned back into the seat. I wondered how I wasn’t going to pounce on this guy.
“So, tell me what it’s like being a big, badass, alpha soldier,” I asked, munching on my second piece of pizza, enjoying the carby goodness. I was hoping that since I was binging on something off limits in the food department I would have some willpower left to resist Ian.
Ian watched me a beat then answered. “I don’t know about the ‘big, badass alpha’ bit, but I enjoy the army. I work with some decent guys who are like brothers,” he shrugged. “It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”
His answer was so not satisfactory.
“Come on, you’ve got to give me more than that. Do you know how to disarm a nuke? Do you chop the blue wire or the red wire? Can you kill a man in twenty different ways by touching a specific pressure point on their body? Give me the deets.”
Ian stared at me a moment, then burst out laughing. Boy, was that a wonderful sight. I watched the cords of his neck move and started to squirm in my seat.
“Jesus Christ, you’re a laugh, woman—you’re not at all what you seem. You growing up to be who you are is like a flower growing through a crack in the sidewalk.”
I tried my hardest to ignore the power behind Ian’s gaze, the connection that seemed to be buzzing between us.
“I bet I seem a lot more interesting than I actually am due to the fact you probably haven’t seen a woman in a while,” I said awkwardly, trying to deflect the compliment. Usually I lapped up praise from the opposite sex, but it was always about my appearance: my tits, legs and hair. Ian saw past all of that; it made me uncomfortable and feel warm inside. It was dangerous.
He frowned. “Trust me, you’re nothing like any woman I’ve ever met. You’ve been an amazing friend to my sister. I’ll be forever grateful for that alone.”
I relaxed at him steering the conversation back to a safer subject, one that might douse the flames of my out of control libido.
“Gwen’s the one that saved me from suffocating in the stifling Upper East Side cult. She’s real, honest and loyal—I’m lucky to have her.”
From there the conversation seemed to flow and although there was a sexual undertone, the topics were general.
We talked for hours, talking about nothing and everything. Ian told me about having four-wheeler races with Gwen on their farm back in New Zealand. I told him about the time I signed my mother up to attend a drag queen benefit without her knowledge. I talked with him like I had never talked with anyone before. It felt easy, normal, right. Dangerous.
The easy banter and extreme attraction I felt for this man did not bode well for my future. I had only been in his presence for a couple of hours; how could I stand the two weeks he was here without pouncing on him? I would just have to ovary it up and find a way to resist it. I was a grown woman, after all. I wasn’t a slave to my baser instincts.
“Fucking hell, you’re beautiful,” Ian growled while his hand traced my breast.
“No talking,” I commanded, pulling him back to my mouth.
Okay, so it had taken my resolve about five sexually charged minutes to waver on the car ride home. Ian seemed to be struggling too and as if we had reached some kind of mutual agreement, we had pounced on each other. Luckily the car had a little screen so the driver wouldn’t be getting a free amateur porn show. Not that I cared at this moment. Hell, he could pull up to Times Square and sell tickets, I didn’t give a shit.
He yanked me up to straddle his lap, bunching the fabric of my dress so my almost bare core rubbed against his hard length. I moaned into his mouth. Calloused hands snagged against the silk of my dress, playing with my nipples as they hardened under his touch. I ground my body against his, desperate to feel closer. To meld myself against his rock hard body. I almost came from the friction of his jeans against the lace of my panties.
“You’re gonna have to stop doing that, beautiful, or I’m going to lose control and fuck you right here,” Ian bit out.
I opened my eyes and gazed at him through my lashes, “I want you to fuck me right here.”
Ian seemed to struggle for a moment and he let his forehead fall against mine.
“You’re too good to fuck in the back of a car. I want you in a bed where I can take my time, taste every inch of your body, then fuck you slow and watch your face when you come,” he hissed, palming my breast.
I grasped his hand and directed it into my soaking panties. His jaw clenched as his fingers brushed my clit. I barely restrained a scream.