Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
My indecision was a sure sign that my brain and body were working on different frequencies. If I’d been in my right mind, I would have set us both straight, pun intended, and steered us toward safer waters. But that ship had sailed the second we’d kissed. Or was it the second I’d rubbed against his huge erection and—
No. Stop. Cease and desist.
The answer was clear as day. Nothing good would come of this. I had to stay away from Jett Erickson. Far, far away.
That was my intention, but then he texted and I lost focus again.
What time are you done with class?
Four p.m., I replied.
Come over. We should talk.
On the surface, that was a reasonable statement. We’d been under a strange spell yesterday, but today would be different.
It would.
Just you wait and see.
It wasn’t.
It was worse.
Jett met me on the pathway leading to his apartment building, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He wore a navy sweater with dark jeans. His hair was windswept and wild, his gaze locked on his cell. I stopped short and concentrated on breathing. My pulse was speeding, and I already felt light-headed…and he hadn’t even noticed me yet.
He glanced up and the slowest of smiles crept across his face, blinding me with all that masculine loveliness. “Hey.”
“Hello.” I bit the inside of my cheek—an old nervous habit, but I didn’t feel nervous. No, I was too excited, too aware, and energized in a way I rarely was around other people.
“I wasn’t sure you’d remember my apartment number, so um…yeah.” He gestured to his building. “It’s this way.”
We wordlessly climbed the stairs to the second floor. A door slammed from somewhere above, and music eked into the hallway along with the smell of microwaved popcorn. We were surrounded by signs of life, but it was all static outside this bubble of us.
Jett opened his door and motioned for me to enter first. I rehearsed my speech one last time, turning just as he dropped his backpack on the floor. His nostrils flared and his hands were balled into tight fists. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was hanging on by a thread.
Like me.
My heartbeat was loud now. Too loud. And words dried in my mouth, forgotten and useless. I tried, though.
“I think we…I…”
He inclined his chin and took one step toward me. And another. I couldn’t think with him standing so close and looking so…like himself—a little roguish and a lot like a fantasy come to life.
“I know what you’re going to say, and you’re right. But…I want to kiss you. Just one more time. Is that okay?”
I whimpered unintelligibly and, in a moment of sheer madness, launched myself at him.
Jett grunted, falling against the nearest wall with a thud and pulling me along, his mouth fused to mine. Our tongues twisted and tangled, picking up where we left off yesterday. I stood on tiptoes and tugged his neck to compensate for our height difference. He chuckled, switching our position and caging me between his arms, our noses brushing as we panted for air.
“That was an enthusiastic final kiss,” I managed.
His gaze lowered to my mouth. “You taste good. I want—can I touch you?”
“I…yes.”
I know, I know…that wasn’t smart, but I wasn’t feeling particularly smart. I was feeling daring and rash. I didn’t want to play it safe or be reasonable. I wanted him. And at that very moment, I wanted to be ravaged and wrecked.
And he knew it.
Jett yanked my sweater over my head and unbuttoned my shirt, pausing to nip at my collarbone while his talented fingers made quick work of my belt and my zipper. He stepped aside to pull his sweater and T-shirt off before crashing his mouth to mine again. Suddenly, his hands were everywhere—caressing, squeezing, fondling.
The press of his warm, muscular body was an unexpected rush. My cock ached, throbbed, and did its best to peek out from the elastic confines of my underwear. I was hard as a rock and willing to do anything for friction. Anything at all.
Just when I thought I’d have to beg, Jett undid his belt and pushed his jeans and boxers out of the way, stumbling backward in his haste. He regained his footing, kicked his shoes off and flashed a pirate’s grin as he continued to his knees.
Yes, Jett Erickson, Smithton’s fierce forward, was on his knees for me, licking his lips like a hungry wolf and staring at my cock. Message received. I was his next meal.
“I’m going to suck your pretty dick. If you have any objections to that, now is your chance to speak up.”
“Um…your knee is h-hurt,” I stammered.
“Fuck my knee.”
With that, he opened his mouth wide and swallowed me whole. I dropped my head, eyes glued on the action. I didn’t want to miss a thing because truly, there was nothing sexier in the universe than the sight of my cock between this man’s lips.