Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Seriously?” His fly swelled beneath her bottom rapidly, turning her skin flush. Not excited. She was not excited. Maybe if she kept repeating those words, they would become true. “Been a while?”
“Ten minutes or ten years celibate, I’d still be hard with that butt in position for a good time, Natalie. But, yeah, since we’re on the subject, it’s been a while. You?”
She couldn’t quite hide her surprise that he’d admitted a dry spell out loud. Surprised enough to speak her own truth without thinking. “Yes. You were supposed to be my rebound.”
“Rebound from what?” he asked sharply, his chest muscles hardening against her.
That’s right. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? “I was engaged.” She strove to keep her tone light. “In New York. Now I’m not.”
It took several moments for him to process that, a veritable canyon forming between his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Not right now.”
Those long fingers flexed on her back. “Is he still in the picture?”
“No.” For some reason, she felt compelled to look him in the eye and impress her answer on him. “No. You and I just got engaged, August. Obviously he’s not.”
Relief seemed to make his pupils expand. “Good.”
“Good?”
Several seconds ticked by wherein she found herself studying the indent in the center of his bottom lip. The stubble appearing just over the firmer top one. And why was there something . . . annoyingly sexy about her feet not touching the ground while sitting in his lap? “That’s what I said. Good,” he repeated, something flickering in his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to have to fend off any competition for my fake fiancée, right?”
“Right.” That tiny sink of disappointment she felt was incredibly unhealthy. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that.”
A muscle snapped in his cheek. “Good.”
“Stop saying ‘good.’”
“Great.” Tension coiled between them like a copper spring and she couldn’t quite place a finger on the source. Arousal—his, not hers—was the obvious answer, but there seemed to be something more. She was being challenged in some way, though, that much was obvious. August had leaned in, bringing his mouth within an inch of hers. They were completely shielded from the rest of the train car. Napa danced by in all its rich, sunset-drenched splendor, vineyard vines threading toward rolling hills and fading sunlight, but she was barely aware of any of it. Only this man’s breath on her mouth and his strength surrounding her. “Just so we’re clear, Natalie, I wouldn’t have any problem fending off some city boy in loafers.”
Please tell me that my vaginal walls did not flex in response to that. “Jesus. Leave it to you to have a pissing contest with someone you’ve never met.”
Why was she breathing so fast?
Her words tripped over themselves on the way out and he only moved closer, his hand opening wide on her hip and squeezing, his lips making the barest contact with hers. “Rebound, huh?”
“Is that what you’re mad about?”
“Who said I’m mad?”
“Your face.”
Their lips were all but flush now. “Maybe I’m just pissed I missed my chance to help you move on from your broken engagement.”
“I have moved on.”
“Prove it, princess.” Ever so briefly, his tongue touched the seam of her mouth and fingers of lust raked up her inner thighs. “Convince this train full of your fellow wine snobs that you’re dying to walk down the aisle with me.”
Bastard. “To this day, no one in St. Helena has ever beaten my record for shots taken at a party. Sixteen shots, August. I should by all accounts be dead. Before me, the record stood at fifteen.”
“Proud of you, girl, but why are you telling me this?”
“So you understand that I don’t lose. Not when I’m challenged.”
A rumble went off in his chest. “Getting that mouth on mine won’t be a loss.”
Slowly, she wound his tie around her fist and used her body to guide him back into the dark interior of the Lovers’ Nest chair, turning so her breasts were pressed high to his chest. “Are you sure about that?”
“Sure as I’ve ever been about anything,” August said with confidence.
But when she twisted a little in his lap, he gulped.
“Fuck” was the last thing he said before Natalie settled her mouth over his and kissed him in a way that was pure foreplay. Wet lips dragged right to left, teasing, showing him what her mouth could do elsewhere. And based on the rigid rise of his erection under her butt, he was definitely thinking about it. A lot. She framed his bristled jaw with her right hand and tugged his chin down, opening his mouth, giving her the access to lick deep, once, twice, three times, leisurely and savoring, tasting his hearty groan and feeling his muscles tense to the point of snapping. “I see what you’re doing now,” he uttered between kisses. “You’re going to get me hot and leave me hanging, aren’t you?”