Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He’d finished half the sandwich before he said, “Turkey with cranberry sauce is perfect with Belgian ale. My favorite things.” Like a kid on the playground, he couldn’t help teasing her, “Is this your way of saying you like me?”
She gave him that stern look he knew so well. “This is my way of saying that I appreciated the meal you put together for me with the help of those matchmaking interlopers.” Her jaw tensed for a moment. Ah, so she called Susan and Flo matchmakers too. “I thought it would be a nice thing to do.” And after a long stare, she said emphatically, “For a friend.”
Before taking out the other half of his sandwich, he said mildly, “I’m pretty sure friends don’t kiss like we did on that boat.”
She set down her sandwich, almost as if it was a gauntlet she’d thrown. A militant look in her eyes, she said, “I’m not saying you’re a bad kisser.” She stopped his breath in his chest. He hadn’t thought she’d acknowledge it. Then she shrugged as if she knew what he was thinking and couldn’t resist another smackdown. “But I’m sure there are plenty of equally amazing kisses in my future.”
So, she thought the kiss was amazing. Michaela might think it was a slam, that any old kiss would be amazing, but he saw it as a challenge to make their next kiss stupendous. Was stupendous better than amazing? Whatever, it would be better—so much better that she’d never think about kissing anyone else.
And he did what he’d been dying to do from the moment he’d seen her this morning. Correct that—from the moment he’d seen her in her office that very first day. “Well, then, let’s get you started right now.”
Wrapping an arm across her shoulders, he pulled her to him and lip-locked her.
Oh my God!
She’d walked right into it. Practically begged for it. And it was the sweetest, hottest damned kiss ever. Her lips parted almost immediately, taking his tongue into her mouth. Tasting him. The sweet tang of cranberry, the yeasty taste of beer. And him.
He cupped her face, devoured her, then put his hand on her rump and slid her across the bench straight into the vee of his thighs.
As he pulled her legs over his thighs, she twisted slightly, curling her arms around his neck and holding him tight. She wasn’t wearing more than her little sports bra and minuscule hiking shorts. And she felt everything.
She’d been dying from the moment he’d peeled off his shirt, wanting to feel all that hot, bronzed skin beneath her fingertips—beyond just smoothing on sunscreen. She couldn’t help running her hands all over him, and backing off a little, she trailed her fingers down his washboard abs.
He paused long enough to whisper, “I think it’s working now.”
She’d challenged him when he’d taken off his shirt, when she’d told him it wouldn’t work, when she’d said there would be plenty more amazing kisses in her future. She’d meant to imply they wouldn’t be from him.
But, oh, this kiss was more than amazing. His taste in her mouth, his scent in her head, his skin beneath her fingertips.
She hadn’t been on a date in ages, and she’d kissed way too many frogs. Her taste in men and frogs had been lousy.
Until this kiss. Until this man.
As she moaned into his mouth, his hands began roaming over her shoulders, her back. Then his mouth roamed, too, trailing down her neck, kissing the hollow of her throat. Without even meaning to, she tipped her head back, giving him better access. Then his fingertips found her breast and the tight bead begging for his touch, and he pinched her lightly, sending a shockwave of desire straight to her core.
She should stop this—say no—crawl out of his arms—even run away.
Instead, she moaned more deeply and clutched the back of his head, pushing him closer to her breast, to where she needed him.
She didn’t want to stop him. She wanted this to go on and on.
She wanted—
A voice sliced right between them.
“Okay, guys, we’d better stop. I think we’re interrupting something here.”
Michaela practically leaped off Troy’s lap.
Horrified, she gaped at the four college-age, preppy guys. The horror came from the fact that had they been five minutes later, Troy probably would have had her breasts bared. And she would have let him. She’d desperately wanted his mouth on her, his tongue teasing the sensitive nubs.
She should have been stronger, should have made him back off. But she’d wanted him. More of his kisses, more of his touches, more of him. Where he was concerned, she wasn’t strong at all. She shouldn’t want everything his hands and mouth offered. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from needing it badly.
God, she was weak.
The tallest of the young men said, “Hope you don’t mind if we join you?”