Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Her body is closer, her chest heaving. I can hear her breath. I witness the way she licks her lips. Resting my hand over her heart, I feel the pounding—begging for more. She whispers, “I want that.”
“How badly?”
“Enough to know I’m ready for lesson four.”
Moving my hand to her cheek, I say, “No, you’re not, but you’re ready for me and lesson three.”
I take her drink and mine and set them down on the windowsill. “Do you remember what we did in the office?”
“Everything. I think about it all the time.”
Smiling, I take her left hand in mine and put my other on the curve of her waist. “Dance with me again.”
Her silent permission is enough for us to start moving, our bodies pressed together, and her head leans on my chest. I wrap my arms around her and we sway. Rubbing her back, I close my eyes and appreciate that I’ve been given a chance to hold her.
And to kiss her like this. Leaning back, I find her chin and turn it up to mine. “I want you,” I whisper, and then kiss her, her lips taking to mine as if they should never be apart.
They shouldn’t. That’s a conversation for another day. Lesson three awaits . . .
Letting my hands roam as if she was mine, I grab her ass and squeeze her against me, enough so she can feel how she affects me. Her body starts moving of its own accord. “You want this. I can feel it. I can tell. Your body gives you away. Where’s your mind?”
“On you.”
“Good, baby. So good.” I take a step back. “Sit on the sill.”
“There?” She points to the windowsill behind her. It looks to be wide, like eight inches or so.
“Yes, Virginia. There.”
She holds my gaze for a hard moment before she backs up and sits next to our drinks.
Keeping my voice steady, I use my experience to show her a new side of sex, one where she doesn’t have to feel unsteady about the next step. She can just sit back and enjoy. The pleasure will truly be mine. “I’m thirsty.”
Lifting the glass of whiskey next to her, she starts to raise it but detours and with the little vixen’s eyes on me, she takes a long pull of the amber liquid. No scrunched face in reaction from the strength of alcohol. No, not her. She takes it like she loves it, keeping her eyes on me the whole time in challenge. Then her tongue dips out to lick her lips as she hands the glass to me.
My tongue dips in response, wishing I were licking her lips instead of mine. I take the glass from her and drink, finishing it. Reaching forward I set the glass back down on the sill and hold her head, angling it up to me. I kiss her lips, too tempted to stay away. Our lips part and our tongues pick up dancing where our bodies left off. When a little moan is given from her to me, my right hand moves down over her soft skin and I run a fingertip under the top of her dress. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You always say that,” she whispers. With a shaky smile, she touches my neck, her fingers curving around holding me close to her. “You know I’m a sure thing, right? It’s part of the whole plan.”
Plan . . . the damn plan. “I say it because I think it and because you deserve to hear it.” I’m going to make her forget all about that fucking plan. Kneeling before her, I slide my palms over her knees, her sexy little knees, and part them. They don’t go far until I start to slide the skirt of her dress higher on her outer thighs.
Breathy with stiff arms holding her in place, she tugs that bottom lip under with her teeth. “I’m going to make you feel so good, V.”
With my eyes latched on hers, I slide my hand up her inner thigh until I reach her paradise, a private haven where she greets me with my name sounding closer to a sin than the moniker my family intended. “Hardy.”
My smirk is fast and quick, opposite of how I plan on touching her. “What is it? What do you want, baby? Tell me.”
Her eyes leave mine when she turns her head to the side, dipping it down in a gesture that comes in the form of an unhealthy helping of disgrace.
I’m just not going to have that. “Look at me.” My hand stops, although still warm against her softness. “Now.” When she does look at me, I say, “Clear your head. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about between us. Don’t let demons in that have no place here.” I rub her temple. “Or here.” Moving my hand to her chest over her heart, I tap. “Or even here.” I move my other hand, lovingly, gently, caressing her soft folds with the back of my fingers. “All of you—mind, body, and heart—have to want this, need to feel pleasure instead of shame.”