Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
I don’t. I lift my chin in invitation.
He drops his mouth to mine, and for a few dizzying seconds, the kiss is as slow and sweet as a summer afternoon. It’s hazy and warm as he brushes his lips across mine in a teasing whisper of a kiss.
It’s deliciously unexpected. I’m not used to men knowing their mind, making a plan, and sticking to it. But I think I could get used to it in the kissing department, since this kiss goes straight to my head. And, well, my bikini. I’m aching between my thighs already. I grab the collar of his shirt, twisting my fingers around the material so I can hold on tight.
He kisses me for a few more delirious seconds, that trim beard whisking across my face in a light scratch. When he breaks the kiss, I figure that’s when we’ll sit down, but there’s no reprieve. After his mouth quirks up in a too pleased grin, he rasps out, “Come here, Chloe.”
“I’m here,” I whisper.
“Closer,” he says, hauling me against him before he takes another kiss. This one knocks the breath right out of me. It’s hard, demanding, full of teeth and tongue and desire. He kisses me like he wants to fuck me. His tongue explores my mouth. One hand grips my face. The other ropes around my waist.
There’s no hesitation from him.
No games.
No dicking around.
I have a feeling that Sawyer is unapologetic. A man who wants what he wants and tonight that’s…me. When I’ve been kissed so thoroughly that I’m sure my lips are beautifully bruised, he ends it, but he loops a hand around the back of my neck before letting go of me.
“Want a drink, Chloe? This one’s on me.”
I do, but I also don’t want to stop for anything. “Or,” I begin, with a bob of my shoulder, “do you want to do something ridiculous?”
One eyebrow rises. “I’m listening.”
“We could…go to my room.”
In no time, he sticks up a hand, catching the bartender’s attention. “Check, please.”
I laugh. “I guess that’s a yes?”
After the bartender signals that he heard, Sawyer turns to me, confidence flashing in his dark eyes—they’re a deep, chocolate brown. “Chloe, you are an unequivocal yes.”
And he is the perfect end to a shitty day.
But just in case things go south, I square my shoulders and say without regret, “Can I take a picture of your license really fast?
“Of course,” he says without questioning me. Without acting weird.
He lets go of my waist, reaches for his wallet, and sets his identification on the counter right as the bartender returns with the check. Sawyer signs the bill while I snap the pic and send the shot to my friends.
When all that’s done, I say, “Ready?”
“More than you can ever know,” he says, then, using my words from earlier, he adds, “maybe ridiculous isn’t a bad thing.”
“Maybe? C’mon. We can do better than maybe.”
“Let’s find out how much better we can do,” he says, then takes my hand. We leave the bar, heading straight into the carpe diem portion of the night.
As soon as the doors close in the elevator, I swipe my key card, then punch the button for level ten. Before we even pass the second floor, Sawyer advances toward me, bracketing my face with his hands and dropping his mouth to mine once more.
So we’re doing the whole kissing-in-the-elevator thing. I fumble behind me for the brass bar, then find it. I wrap my hands around it. As the car shoots up, my mind goes hazy with both lust and longing as this veritable stranger kisses me with a confidence I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced before.
He kisses with purpose. With a plan. His strong hands slide up my arms, then he fiddles with the strap of the sundress, running his finger under it and across the bare skin of my shoulder.
My breath hitches.
He stops, breaks the kiss, strokes my shoulder some more. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks. Some hot Mr. Darcy-type got it for me.”
The corner of his lips curves up. “Sounds like he has good taste. He probably thought the color would look great on you.”
“He has a good eye. The bikini’s nice too,” I say.
“Bet it looks good on you,” he says with a casual nod and a cocky grin to match.
“Bet it looks good on the floor too.”
His eyes sparkle first, then his mouth curves up. Shaking his head in admiration, he says, “Chloe,” like my name contains his entire agenda for the night. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I thought we’d already made that clear,” I say as the elevator chugs, slowing down at last.
His eyes pin me with a dark, hot stare. “What I mean is…how am I going to fuck you senseless tonight?”
My thighs clench. My mind is still reeling from his words, but I manage a response. “That’s a ridiculous question.”