Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“What if we never decide?” she asks.
“Then the press is going to think I’ve become a monk.” I laugh, thinking of the possible headlines. She shakes my hands free from her wrists.
“So we can go slow,” she says, putting her hands on my chest, and my heart speeds up, her body coming closer to mine. “We can take our time. We can just be us,” she whispers. “Not the asshole you but the kind you. The one who got scared I was sick and alone, the one who wants to hold my hand and hike. The one who wants to come home and cook for me.” She gets on her tippy toes. “The one who I’d love nothing more than to get naked with.” She kisses the under part of my jaw, and my cock springs into action, thinking about her naked.
I grab her hands away from me and lean in to lightly kiss her lips. “I’m going to the bathroom again,” I tell her. “I promise I won’t be masturbating to memories and the feel of my hands on your gorgeous ass. I’m surprised I still have any skin left, but I have to walk away from you for a few minutes.”
“I can help you with that big problem you have, you know,” she purrs seductively, her hands moving down to my apparent bulge.
“No.” I jump back as if her hands are on fire. “I need you to leave me alone.” I turn and walk away but then turn back and go to her, grabbing her face in my hands. “But when I come back, I want you out of that skirt so we can make out on your bed.” I kiss her softly, then turn to leave. “Give me five minutes.” She shrugs, and I turn and run out of the room. “Could be less,” I tell her, shutting the bathroom door behind me. I walk to the vanity and put my hands on it and hang my head. “Holy shit, I just made out with Erin,” I say softly. “This is a really bad idea.” I look at myself in the mirror. “What are you doing?” Then I finally answer myself. “I’m doing what I want for me. And hopefully for her.” I stop looking at myself and go back to her room. Gone is the suitcase from the bed. “Erin?” I yell, and she comes around from her closet wearing gray pants and a loose long-sleeved black shirt with her hair tied up on top of her head.
“That was fast.” She looks from my face and then down at my junk. “I mean, it’s been three minutes. I guess it’s all about what you do in that time?” She tries to hide her smile.
“I didn’t do anything,” I tell her, going straight to her and grabbing her the way I want to grab her. Picking her up, I now have her legs wrapped around my waist. I groan into her mouth when she wraps her arms around my neck, and my hand roams up her back and I feel her skin.
“What are you wearing?” I ask her while my hand roams her back, and I feel just skin, no bra no nothing.
“It’s called a keyhole back,” she says, trying to get to my lips. “Carter,” she huffs out, but I’m still roaming with my hand.
“You aren’t wearing a bra?” I’m shocked. I didn’t think I could get hard that fast.
She smirks at me. “I’m just making sure if you want to hit second base, there is nothing stopping you.”
“Oh my God, I love when you talk sports,” I say, walking back to the bed. “Although I’m more of a hockey guy than a baseball guy.” I turn to sit on the bed, and it’s the wrong thing for me to do because she sits right on my cock, and I swear I feel the heat from her pussy.
“Good to know,” she says, grinding down on my cock. “Just so you know, I don’t give a shit as long as it ends with your mouth on my body.” She pushes me down now and takes over the kiss. Her knees are on either side of my hips, and I feel her nipples through her shirt. Fuck. Her tongue comes into my mouth again, and my brain shuts off. Everything except her hands and the feel of her in my arms. She sits up now on me while I lie on my back. Her arms cross in front of her, and she peels her shirt over her head. “Skin on skin,” she says, and it’s almost like it happens in slow motion. I see her stomach first, slowly rolling to her ribs, and then her perfect fucking tits. And I’m not lying when I say they are perfect. Perfect, round, and perk. My hands fly up to cup her in my hands. And I was wrong before. It’s not perfect; it’s way past that. I watch her close her eyes when I roll her perfect pink nipples between my thumb and forefinger. She grinds down harder on me. “Carter,” she says, and I sit up now, taking one into my mouth and slowly rolling it with my tongue. Her hips slowly move, and I watch her struggle.