Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Thud!
“Ouch!” I whisper-hiss, my cheek squished into the fibers of the carpet, my legs still on the bed, my torso hanging off the edge. I cringe and hold my breath, waiting for him to come bursting into my room and locate the threat. The only threat here are my greedy eyes.
“Idiot,” I mutter to myself, starting to unfold my tangled body and push back up onto the bed. He’s supposed to be the best security an individual could wish for. What a load of shit. He hasn’t even come to check up on me. I could be pinned to my bed with a gun pointed at my head.
“Idiot,” I whisper again, this time my insult pointed at the sinfully delicious man currently sprawled on my couch, possibly naked.
Sprawled on my couch.
Possibly naked.
“Oh God.” I’m suddenly not on the bed anymore but moving toward the door as though drawn by some unseen force. The soft pile on my bedroom carpet is pushing between my tippy-toes as I pull on my T-shirt, and the door is getting closer and closer, until the full length of his body is in perfect view. Lord, have mercy. He is sprawled, on his back, arms extended above his head, his face resting inward on his right bicep. He’s asleep.
Hard.
It’s the first word that comes to mind, followed by dangerous. And then followed quickly by masterpiece. I’ve developed a tremble, and my blood is pulsing in my ears, making it impossible to register the voice in my head that’s telling me to shut the door, rather than open it wider so I can pass through quietly.
I’m in the living space of my apartment, taking light, tentative steps toward my shadow, hungry for a more detailed, close-up look of his perfection. I make it to his side without instigating a murmur or stir from him. He looks serene and even more handsome without the hardness in his eyes that’s present when he’s awake. His face alone could hold my attention for all of eternity, his dark mussed hair all askew, his stubble rough, his jaw sharp. Absolutely gorgeous. Manly. Primal. Rough.
Allowing my eyes to start drifting away from the tranquil beauty of his face, I let them linger on his torso. His muscles are relaxed but still prominent, every ridge defined under a sprinkling of dark hair. I’m only mildly grateful that he has boxers on when I reach his groin. The black material hugs his hips and wraps around his thick thighs too well. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him. He’s like a freak show, he’s so perfect. He has the art of less is more down to a tee where his body is concerned.
I’m close enough to appreciate it all, but I still dip a little, holding my breath, certain that if I breathe, it will touch his skin and wake him. I have to force my hands to remain at my sides and not feel him. Then I notice a small scar on the taut flesh of his shoulder. It’s faint, a silvery mar on his perfect skin. I lean in a little more, intrigued.
He moves.
It happens so quickly I don’t even have the chance to yelp in shock. It’s only when my back meets the floor and I’ve blinked my vision clear that I realize where I am.
Beneath him.
His naked skin pressed into my thin T-shirt.
Sensibility is telling me to protest, to wriggle and free myself, yet he feels so good touching me, firm and strong, warm and safe.
He’s looking down at me, expressionless, his dark eyes singeing my skin until I can feel a flush working its way up my neck to my cheeks. Despite my inability to move, my erratic breathing is making my body heave under him, causing our skin to press…everywhere. Oh God, his cock is solid and pushing into my thigh, and my nipples are buzzing, probably injecting his chest with electric shocks. He has my wrists pinned to the floor above my head. I’m a prisoner, locked in place, anticipating his next move. What will it be?
Kiss me!
Oh my God, did I think that? The words are suddenly screaming in my head repeatedly. I want him to kiss me, ravish me, pound into me with his powerful body. I’ve never experienced instant attraction before. Not on this level. This is new, something wild and dangerous, and it’s got me all desperate and pent-up. He must be able to see it, and judging by the large, hard length of flesh wedged into my thigh, I’m guessing he feels it, too.
I search his eyes for any sign of his thoughts, becoming frustrated and irritated when I find nothing. Just dark pits of emptiness staring down at me. But then something shifts and a wave of frustration furrows his forehead, slowly forming a deep frown. I suddenly register a lack of heaving from him. He’s holding his breath.