Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
He raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a violation of the contract to have a personal relationship with the client,” I explain, but I can’t stop staring at his lips. I know he sees how I keep looking at them, because he wets his bottom lip with his tongue just to watch me squirm.
“You keep talking about the contract,” he says, stepping closer to me, “when the truth is that you’re using it as an excuse to avoid our connection. You can’t stop thinking about me. You’ve wanted me ever since the first day.”
I glare at him. Even though it’s true, it’s a prickish thing to say.
“You’re completely unreadable,” I tell him. “You know, beyond the flirty texts regarding childcare for a non-existent child.” Hmm. I suppose that is pretty clear, actually. “But you probably do that with all the girls. This is probably all a big joke to you.”
Okay, fine. That’s the real issue, isn’t it?
He steps closer to me, nearly closing the distance between us. He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes taking in what I’m sure is a fresh blush blooming from my neck to my cheeks.
“You really think I’m sending you mixed signals?” he asks, voice low and heavy.
My heart thunders dangerously in my chest.
“Well, Liberty”—he tugs me the final inch into his arms as I gasp—“let me make sure I’m very, very clear about the signals I’m sending you.”
He slides his arm around me and pulls me flush against him so that I can feel the hard, throbbing length of him through his pants. Grey sweatpants, by the way, so they’re not hiding much. Instantly, I’m aching and wet for him. My body is on board, that’s for sure.
“Next,” Mason says, running his fingertip from my jaw, down by my ear, then skating down my side until he reaches my hips and can slide his hand beneath my shirt while I pant. “Let me assure you, there’s no one else. Just you.”
Just you.
Fuck. That’s hotter than it should be.
“Mason,” I whisper, arching my hips against him as his hand moves further beneath my sweater until his hand brushes the underside of my bare breast.
“No bra tonight?” he asks, dipping his head to kiss along my neck. “You fucking naughty little minx.”
He flicks his thumb over my nipple. I let out a soft cry and he uses the arm wrapped around my back to pull me tighter against him.
“Fuck, Liberty,” he says. “You don’t know how much I want you. I have to leave every morning before you get here or I think I’ll lose my mind not being allowed to touch you. Do you feel what you’ve done to me?”
He takes my hand and presses it against his cock, and I gasp again at the sensation of it. Even through the cotton fabric pants, I can tell how huge he is. I palm as much of him as I can, feeling him pulse against my touch through the fabric as he groans.
“You’re going to kill me,” he says, squeezing my breast in his hand as he runs his thumb in circles over my aching, hard nipple. “Tell me what you want, Liberty. I’ll give you anything. Anything.”
I force myself to breathe. To drink in every electric sensation of his touches. I arch my back and look back at him. It’s now or never. And I want it now.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” I tell him. “Please, Mason.” I groan the words into his neck, inhaling the perfect scent of him as I do.
He doesn’t hesitate. With his hand still under my sweater, he pulls it off of me in one fluid movement. My hands tug at the elastic on his pants in a frenzy as his mouth crashes against mine, both of us desperate to taste each other as our tongues slide against one another. I’m slowed down by a drawstring, but I get it loosened at last and yank down his pants, revealing the boxer briefs underneath. But it’s not enough. I’m tugging at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, desperate to see him, needing to be able to touch him, taste him.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” he says, smirking against my lips.
“Shut up and help me,” I snap at him, pulling back so that I can gesture at his shirt.
“So bossy. If you shush me I cannot be held accountable for how I respond,” he teases.
“Just, please, Mason. I’m dying.”
That makes his eyes darken, and I swear I see his dick twitch in his boxers. His dick that needs extra-large condoms. The dick that, if all goes well, is going to be inside of me very, very soon.
“Just so we’re clear,” he says, slowly taking off his shirt. “I texted you hoping you’d be willing to meet me for drinks. But if you insist on going straight to getting me naked, so be it.”