Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
God, his body felt so good against mine, and there was something really erotic about the way I was stretched out, totally supported by him and the equipment above me.
He was so strong. I could feel his hard muscles where my legs were wrapped around him.
He kissed down the line of my throat, and I tilted my head to the side, giving him access. I was getting more and more turned on, heat pooling low in my belly, and that voice in the back of my mind got a little louder—What are you doing? You don’t know this guy—but I pushed it away.
This felt too good to even think about stopping.
He leaned back slightly, and his hand slid under the bottom of my sweater, his palm flat and warm against my stomach. The fingers of his other hand threaded through my hair, and it made my scalp tingle in a delicious way.
Kai looked me in the eye, his hand on my stomach, and waited, giving me a chance to object.
I didn’t.
He slid his hand up and cupped my breast through my bra. I moaned, letting my head fall back, and he fisted a handful of my hair, holding me in place as he kissed me again. By this time, his talented fingers were teasing my nipples, and it all felt so deliciously primal. Like I didn’t need to think, like all I needed to do was let him show me how good he could make me feel.
He cupped my ass again, pulling me even closer, and I felt it then. A hard bulge in his jeans. It felt big, not that I had much to compare it to. I’d never let myself go like this with anyone. The truth was, I’d never even been with a man. Never had the time and hadn’t met anyone who tempted me the way Kai did.
Because now I could see what I’d been missing.
He caressed my breast through the thin fabric of my bra, his thumb brushing over my nipple, and we kissed until I couldn’t think straight. Then he was holding me close, nibbling against my neck, and he whispered against my skin, “You feel so good. You taste so good.”
I ground my hips against him, and in some corner of my mind, I noted that he’d been trying to get me to move my hips all morning—and now I was.
Kai as he nipped at my earlobe. “Let’s go back to my room.”
I was so lost in in the way he was touching me that I barely registered the words. He repeated himself, his voice rough with need. “Let’s go to my room, baby girl. You know you want to.”
I enjoyed the sensation for one more second, maybe two, and then I froze.
Baby girl?
I couldn’t move for a long moment and then I pulled back from him, staggering a little as my feet thudded to the floor. I let go of the straps. They bounced around near my head as I took a step back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“I’m not your baby girl,” I said, staring him in the eye.
He held up his hands in defense. “Sorry. It was just—I got caught up in the moment.”
My gaze dropped, and I could see he was hard. “I can see that.” And a moment ago, I could feel that.
He didn’t even look embarrassed. “Can you blame me?”
“No,” I said flatly. “I blame myself. This isn’t why I came here.”
This internship was a big step toward the career of my dreams. I wasn’t here for skiing, flirting, or making out in a gym. And most of all, I wasn’t here to let a man I barely knew refer to me as baby girl.
I strode past him and headed for the door, my face burning, my heart still pounding, my entire body aching from the abrupt halt to the erotic sensations.
But I didn’t look back.
8
ZOE
“Mrs. Greer, I was hoping I could show you some ideas I have for the resort’s website.” It was just before eight the next morning, but the prickly manager was already at her desk.
She didn’t even look up from the papers in front of her. “No.”
I blinked. Just... no? No explanation, no “maybe later,” just a flat rejection?
“Okay,” I said, regrouping. “Can we discuss the ski lesson yesterday? Because I had some ideas that might help beginners—”
“I don’t need advice from a student.”
The words stung more than they should have. I wasn’t trying to give advice. I was trying to do my job. Or whatever this internship was supposed to be.
I took a breath and tried a different approach. “I don’t want to give advice. I want to learn from you.”
Mrs. Greer set down her pen and looked at me over the rim of her glasses. Even sitting, she somehow managed to look down at me. “Then I suggest you listen more than you speak.”