Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I stepped closer to him. “What if I don’t want to look at it?” My voice came out huskier than normal, and it seemed to make the green of his eyes deepen. Another move closer and I reached for the hem of his shirt and skimmed the back of my fingers along the bare skin of his abdomen underneath. Charlie’s breath hitched, and his muscles shifted beneath warm skin.
“Then I guess you’d better take it off,” he breathed.
I felt the warm air of his breath at the base of my throat and was reminded of our height difference. His thick red hair was a glorious, sexy mess from pulling his sweater off, and I wanted to mess it up even more.
Before lifting his T-shirt up, I leaned in for another kiss. Charlie let out a soft moan the minute our lips met. His were so soft and plump, I wanted to suck them into my mouth and toy with them for hours. I let go of his shirt and cupped his face, surprised by the feel of his evening scruff but not in a spooked way. Just… different.
He smelled different too. Not artificial or full of beauty products but earthy and… and somehow alluring in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that reminded me of home. I moved my lips down his jaw to his throat and inhaled the crook of his neck.
“Mm, that feels good, but I’m sure I still smell like a pub,” he murmured, half kiss-drunk and practically humming with need. “I should shower again. Shave and… ahhh.” When I took his earlobe between my teeth, Charlie melted against me with a whimper. “Fuck, right there. That’s the spot, Hudson.”
My hands had made their way under his shirt again to the warm, smooth skin of his back. I pulled him close to me until I could feel his erection against my inner thigh. Good god, I wanted him so badly—it scared me how much I wanted him. But I was terrified of rushing my one wild night—the single moment of crazy I’d planned on allowing myself.
What if I let it pass too quickly and then it was over forever? I couldn’t even fathom how much regret I’d feel if I looked back at my night with Charlie and decided I took things too fast.
I moved my mouth back to his and was surprised when he took the lead as soon as our lips touched again. He must have thought I was moving too slow, and I was 100 percent on board with him setting the pace.
I moved my hands down to the waistband of his jeans and wanted to slide my fingers into the back of them to feel the cheeks of his ass, but I hesitated. What if instead of moving too slow, I was moving too fast? How fast did guys move? I wouldn’t be that forward with a woman, so did that automatically mean I shouldn’t be that forward with a man either?
Instead of grabbing his ass, I rested my hands on his waist as if we were slow dancing at prom. Stupid. My head began to spin with all kinds of random thoughts. The alcohol buzz had worn off, but the buzz of how-awkward-am-I-right-now remained strong.
Where the hell should I put my hands? God, his tongue feels amazing in my mouth. What if guys don’t kiss this long and I look like an idiot for wanting to kiss him so much?
Charlie pulled back and gazed at me. He looked so incredibly hot and thoroughly kissed, my dick jerked hard at the sight of him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sure that something in my stupid brain had been broadcast to him. “Is it the kissing? Too much kissing? Or my hands? Was that weird? That was weird.” I clasped the offending objects together behind my back.
“You okay, Hudson?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said, leaning back in to pick up where we left off. Charlie dodged me and moved back, pulling out of my reach. I knew I should have stuck my hands down his pants earlier. Then he wouldn’t have been able to get away as easily.
“We should slow down,” he said. His hands found his hair again and clutched thick hanks of it while he blew out a breath. My eyes went straight to the exposed strip of pale skin between the hem of his tee and the low waist of his jeans.
And then my eyes went even lower… to the prominent bulge fighting with faded denim. My heart banged like giant tribal drums in my chest.
“You’re really hard,” I said without thinking. Of course he was hard. And I already knew that from feeling it against my leg. Why was I stating the obvious?
Charlie barked out a laugh. “Ah, yeah. Yeah, Hudson, I’m hard as fucking nails. And you?”