Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
The right things, though, feel the same.
Like the way his eyes flick to my mouth as I go up on my toes. The lemony scent of his aftershave. How my blood leaps in anticipation, arousal gathering inside my skin as I lean in and press my lips to his.
Holy shit. I’m kissing Weston Jessup again.
Chapter 6: Tequila Sunrise
Weston
Idon’t move.
For one frantic heartbeat, then another, I just let myself feel. Her lips. Her warmth. Her courage.
Part of me was certain Josie would tell me to go screw myself. Only what I deserved.
Instead, she’s kissing me.
She tastes like cherry ChapStick.
Once the joyful shock fades, hunger takes over. Six years of pent-up longing sweep through me with the force of a sudden summer thunderstorm.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m cupping her face in my hands. I’m turning my head, brushing my nose against hers just how she likes, and slanting my mouth over the soft heaven of her lips.
She automatically opens to me, and the thrill of it—how well we still know each other after all this time—sends my pulse into a tailspin.
Her hands find my neck. The gentle but knowing slide of her palms over my skin is enough to light me on fire.
Who knows if she’ll actually give me another chance. But right now, this kiss is enough.
It has to be.
She steps into me, melting her hips to mine, and the feel of her is so electric, so comforting, it almost pisses me off.
A holler rises around us. Someone claps. Someone else—Grady, has to be—whistles.
I don’t care. I’m tasting my girl for the first time in six years, and I ain’t about to stop.
I want everyone to know just how much I love this woman. Just how far I’d go to make her happy. I bite down on her bottom lip. She moans, a soft sound I feel in the tip of my dick.
She kisses me harder, deeper. I meet her stroke for stroke as we consume each other in a thirsty push and pull that has me cupping the nape of her neck. I can keep her closer this way.
I can pretend, for a minute, that she’ll say yes when I ask her to come home with me. But that’s jumping twenty steps ahead. I’m not about to mess with the good thing we got going right now.
Her hands slide down to my chest. She fists my shirt, tugging at me as she nips at the corner of my mouth. The flash of pain makes me groan.
I’m getting hard.
“Josie,” I murmur into her mouth as the band starts to play a Brooks & Dunn cover.
She keeps her eyes closed. “Don’t stop.”
I break the kiss and lean my forehead against hers. “I’m not gonna be able to stop if we keep going. And that’s not how this is gonna go down.”
Letting out a velvety chuckle, she rolls her head a little. “There’s a joke in there about—”
“Trust me, I wanna go down on you right now more than I want my next breath. But I . . . that feels wrong. Not going down on you, obviously. But going there. Right now.”
“Damn it, you’re right.” The words are a petulant half moan. “I hate this. Slash, this is too damn good, too fast.”
My turn to laugh. I straighten, dropping my hand from her neck so I can tuck the hair out of her face. “Dance with me.”
She grins, biting her lip. “Okay.”
Josie’s eyes catch on mine as she begins to move, swaying her hips in time to the music. She’s all smiles, hair falling over her shoulders and down her back while she moves against me.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. She is sexy as hell. More confident than before.
I love that.
I love everything about this woman. She’s always known who she is, and she owns it, fearlessly.
I hope I’m able to own who I am like that too. I’m trying.
“You’re still a terrible dancer,” she shouts over the music as she digs her fingertips into the hair at my nape.
My eyes nearly roll to the back of my head at the familiar pleasure that rushes through me. “Somebody’s gotta make you look good.”
“You think I look good?”
“Aw, baby, you always look good.”
Quinn and Grady are already making out beside her. Love them, but . . . yeah, they can be pretty shameless with the PDA.
We dance to another song. Then another and another and another, and suddenly it’s last call.
Josie pulls me off the dance floor and out the door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I laugh. “Where we goin’?”
She cuts me a hot look over her shoulder. “Anywhere we can be alone.”
Christ Almighty.
I tug on her hand, drawing her around to face me on the sidewalk outside the bar. Neon light streams through the windows and catches on the soft slopes of Josie’s face.