Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Ouch,” I grumbled. “But fair,” I admitted.
My schedule revolved around the dogs, mostly. When they needed to eat and go for walks. Other than that, it was all about the project I was working on.
“It’s okay to have a life, baby,” Sway said. “To let people in,” he added.
“I don’t have people,” I said, hearing the ache in the words, the craving for that not to be so painfully true.
“Hey, you have me,” Sway said.
I searched his face for insincerity, but I found none. I should have known better. Sway had proven himself honest and genuine, something I couldn’t help but find refreshing.
“For what?” I asked, shaking my head, breaking eye contact. “A week? Two?”
“Hey,” he said, moving off of the desk to lower down in front of my chair, resting his hands on my knees. “I didn’t say that. I said that you have me,” he clarified. “For as long as you can tolerate my dying cat singing,” he added with that boyish smirk of his.
He even sang in the shower. Loud. Completely out of tune. Unbothered by others overhearing him.
“That’s a tall order,” I said, shaking my head gravely. “You do that a lot.”
“You love it,” he countered. And he was right. I did. “Murphy,” he said, tone going serious again. “You want me in your life, I’m in it,” he said. “In whatever capacity you’re comfortable with,” he added.
Did he mean what I was reading between those words?
Or was that my own wishful thinking?
I guess there was only one way to be sure…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Murphy
My hand reached out, sliding behind his neck, as my gaze watched his.
There was surprise at first, likely not expecting me to make a first move. Even if his own reticence to do so was forcing me to do so.
After that, though, there was a heat starting to build in those pretty light green eyes of his, chasing away that boyish charm, and replacing it with something a lot deeper.
I applied pressure, pulling until he was moving upward, toward me. Placing his hands on the arms of my chair as he towered over me.
Then his lips were on mine, chasing away days of tension, of unfulfilled longing, of, beneath all that, hope.
His hands moved from the armrests, going to frame my face, then using it to pull me with him as he stood, as he turned us, as he pressed me against the desk.
His teeth nipped my lower lip, dragging a little moan out of me.
Taking advantage of my parted lips, his tongue moved inside, claiming mine, making a current of need course through me, sizzling, electric.
Sway’s hands drifted from my face, over my shoulders, down my sides, then sinking into my hips, lifting, then dropping me down onto the top of the desk.
His body pressed inward against my knees, forcing them apart, then moving between my spread thighs as they tightened around his hips, angling up, then wrapping around his ass.
A rumble moved through him as he ground into me, his cock straining against his jeans, brushing just where my own need had become an ache to something akin to actual pain.
Tightening my legs around him, I writhed my hips against him, the friction making a jolt of pleasure course through me, dragging out a ragged moan that Sway’s mouth muffled.
His arm went out, swiping across the desk, sending bits of metal flying, crashing to the floor.
Then his body was curving forward, pressing me flat, coming over me.
Shameless in my need, my hips continued to writhe against him as his hips ground down into me, intensifying it.
Then his lips were ripping from mine in a pant, his heavy-lidded eyes looking down at me as he ground his cock against me again, making me arch up off the desk on a moan.
“Fuck,” he hissed, yanking suddenly away, and there was a moment of crushing disappointment until I felt his hands grabbing my shoes, yanking them off my feet, then my socks.
Finished with that, his hands grabbed the waistband of my pants and the panties beneath, yanking until they were sliding off my hips, thighs, ankles, tossed carelessly to the side as his hungry gaze looked down at me.
His chest was rising and falling sharply with his own need, but his hands were gentle as they slid up the exposed skin of my thighs until he got to my knees.
Fingers sinking in, he spread my legs wide, pressing them to the desks at my sides.
His gaze slipped between my thighs, then upward, the hunger there making another jolt of need course through me.
As if sensing it, he was moving down.
Then his tongue was tracing up my cleft.
Slowly.
God, so slowly.
Achingly so.
Like he was savoring the journey upward until, with a move that made my thighs shake and my hips jolt upward into him, his lips closed around my clit and sucked hard.