Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Shit. Letting my hair curtain my face, I begin stacking the shot glasses on the table, my fingers trembling. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m buzzed.”
Ash slides his arm along the back of the booth behind me, turning his body until his knees graze mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,” he says, inching my hair back and tucking it behind my ear.
“What is it, then?”
He slides his fingers under my chin and turns my head toward him. He’s much closer than he was a few seconds ago, making my heart pound too fast and hard. The heat of his touch steals the breath from my lungs.
“You’re Mandy’s best friend.” His teeth latch onto his bottom lip, and he watches me as his fingers brush my jaw in a hypnotic way that ignites searing heat between my thighs. I clench them without thinking.
“She wouldn’t care.” A lie, because I’m pretty sure she’d flip out.
“Okay, you’re my friend.”
“I don’t care, Ash.” Apparently, I’m full of lies tonight. Losing his friendship is a terrifying thought. He and Mandy are all I have.
“I care.”
“Oh.” I’ve got no reply to that. Needing some distance, I draw away by a few inches.
“Sadie.” He shifts again, and the next thing I know, his fingers are threading through my hair. He hovers at my ear, letting out shallow and uneven breaths. “Jesus. Don’t you know how much you matter to me? You have to know.”
I exhale a shaky sigh. “You matter to me too.”
Seconds tick past before he inches back, dark stubble grazing my cheek. His lips part as he meets my eyes, and I hate that I have no idea what’s running through his head as he searches my face, his sharp blue gaze darting between my eyes and mouth.
“Hell, Sawyer. You couldn’t handle me.” And just like that, he pulls away. “You’re too damn sweet.”
My spirit sinks to my toes. I’m the kind of sweet that doesn’t fall to her knees and suck a guy’s dick until he can’t think straight. The kind of sweet that inspires a man to cheat because even though I want to do all sorts of dirty things, I’m too inhibited to know how.
I’m almost twenty-three-fucking-years old—the same as Ash and Mandy, who are light-years ahead of me when it comes to sex. But me? I must be the last virgin from our graduating class. How pathetic is that?
Thanks to numerous shots of tequila, the familiar shackles of inhibition are nowhere to be found. I glance around the packed bar and spot Mandy talking to a guy she’s been chasing for a couple of months. She works here three nights a week as a KJ, keeping Club Hoppin hopping with karaoke during the bar’s slower nights.
But tonight is Friday, and everyone is busy chasing someone, or dancing, or too drunk to notice Ashton and me in the corner booth. Even the barmaid has forgotten us.
Just do it flits through my mind. Before I allow myself the chance to chicken out, I disappear underneath the table and wedge my body between his legs.
His shocked intake of breath spurs me on. “What the fuck are you doing, Sadie?”
“Giving you a taste of how sweet I can be.” I fumble with the button of his jeans too long, giving away my inexperience and offering him plenty of time to push me away.
But he doesn’t.
Licking my lips, I inch down his zipper. God, he’s free balling it. His long length springs free of the confines of his jeans, and I had no idea he was hiding such a big cock behind that denim.
An erect cock. The brain above his waist might be putting on the brakes, but the one in his pants is ready to go. It curves upward, the soft tip practically staring me in the face.
“Sadie,” he says in a strangled tone, and I think I hear him groan as he sinks his fingers into my hair, holding me still. Holding me back. “You’re drunk, and I don’t mess with drunk chicks.”
“I’m not a chick.” I fight his grasp, and he loosens his fingers without much effort on my part. Because he wants my mouth wrapped around his cock. His ragged breathing is evidence enough. He combs my hair back as I tilt forward, and I flash back to what I witnessed earlier through the ajar door of my boyfriend’s—ex-boyfriend’s—office. Blondie hadn’t just used her mouth; she’d fisted the base as she took him between her lips.
Bringing trembling fingers to Ashton’s lap, I curl my hand around the thick root of his shaft and slide my lips over the head.
“Hell,” he groans. “You’re so much more than just a chick.”
My heart is beating out of control as I glide my hand up and down velvet steel. I roll my tongue over the plump head, and his fingers tighten in my hair.