Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
I might even roar.
“That is one fine backside,” I tell the hockey star as I admire the hell out of the way this suit is fitting him—hugging his thick thighs, worshipping his muscular ass, showing off his strong body.
When he faces me again, he gives me a satisfied smirk. “Glad you approve.”
“So much I want to take it off you,” I whisper.
He slides a hand down his face, muttering, “I can’t take you anywhere.”
Corbin returned home last night, and since Charlotte went to Sarah’s house this morning, this is the first time I’ve seen him. Aisha is closing up Afternoon Delight, so it’s just us here in the city, shopping via private appointment at Ruiz and Sons on a fancy stretch of Union Street.
Corbin’s gaze drifts to the owner of the shop, who’s working on his computer on the other side of the store. A small Mexican flag sits in a cup next to the screen. The man is giving us space, it seems. Corbin grabs my hand and jerks me against his hard body. “You sure you like it?”
I arch a brow. “Is this a gift for me?” I rub up against the outline of his erection.
“Unwrap it.”
I gasp.
But he just shrugs, cocky, kind of challenging.
I’m not sure if he means it though, and I’m both flustered and entirely turned on. But there’s nothing to be done about it, so I clear my throat. “Try on the blue plaid suit I picked out.”
“Whatever you want, Firecracker,” he says, his eyes traveling over me like he’s very happy to see me, before he shuts the door to the dressing room.
I try to clear the lust from my head as I wander around, perusing ties and shirts while the man behind the counter glances up, his close-cropped hair catching the light of the chandelier overhead. “Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
“I’m all good, Mr. Ruiz.”
I return to Corbin as the dressing room door creaks open. He steps out, and wow.
“I love suits. I just do,” I say as I fan my face. The blue is rich, the pattern sharp, the fit perfect. All I want to do is push off the jacket, undo the buttons on the shirt, and strip off the pants.
He tilts his head, asking innocently, “Color gets you going?”
“Yes. It’s the color, Corbin,” I say, then fiddle with the lapels of the jacket even though I don’t need to. I just want to touch him. As I smooth them, his hands come down on mine, clasping them.
My breath hitches from the contact. From the strong press of his palms. And from the low, rumbly noise he makes.
I bite the corner of my lip.
His eyes blaze. They’re a darker shade of green than I’ve seen before. “You want me to get this suit?”
I nod. “This suit is a big yes. But so’s the wine-colored one.”
“I’m getting them because you like the way they look,” he says, his voice raspy, hungry.
“Don’t I feel special,” I say.
“You should. You’re the one I’ll be wearing them for.”
A hot shiver runs down my spine. He drops my hands and walks away from me, toward the owner.
Corbin stops at the register, tells the owner he’ll take the two suits, then lowers his voice so I can’t hear him. The owner nods, heads to the door and locks it, then retreats to the back of the shop, and…from the clicking sound growing fainter, it seems he heads upstairs.
My heart is beating so fast.
Cutting past mannequins and displays of jackets and shoes, Corbin strides to me.
“What did you just do?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I know.
“I get all my suits from him. A lot of the guys do,” he says, not answering me directly. “Ramon’s a good guy. He’s giving us a little space.”
My pulse kicks. I ache everywhere. “So you missed me?”
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he jerks me against him. “You know I missed you, Firecracker.”
Heat flares through me. “Show me how much.”
“Done.”
He tugs me into the dressing room, kicks the door closed, and spins me around. He pushes me against the wall, so I’m facing it. “Hands up.”
I press my palms against the wall as he hikes up my skirt and groans. “Your ass is perfect. Lift it higher.”
I raise my ass. He runs a hand over one cheek, then the other.
I shudder.
He sheds the suit jacket, tosses the tie over his shoulder, then bites down on my collarbone, sucking. I tremble.
Then the sound of his zipper being undone drifts past my ears and I gasp.
He tugs down my panties till they’re mid-thigh, then rubs the head of his cock against my wetness.
It feels too good to be real.
I roll my lips together, swallowing a gasp. I don’t need Mr. Ruiz to hear me, no matter where he is.