Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Anyone ever tell you you're weird?"
"In what way?"
He laughed. "Every way." He took a deep sip of his beer, then reached over and grabbed my stool in between my legs, his hand brushing against the crotch of my shorts as he gripped the wood and pulled it, my hands gripping the bar for balance as he dragged the stool and me toward him, stopping when I was in between his legs, his hand on my bare thigh, sliding confidently up the muscle until he reached the hem of my white shorts.
"You're pretty weird yourself."
"You don't know me yet."
He was right about that. This man was a complete mystery to me. "I have a pretty good idea."
"I'm glad one of us does."
I stared at him, fascinated, by the way his fingers dipped under the line of my shorts, how he was sexual and frank, yet aloof. He showed disdain and attraction for me all at one time and acted as if it was completely normal. But most fascinating, most tempting: all of the ways he was different from Brant. He tipped back his head and emptied his glass and there was pure masculinity in every movement, even the scent of him—one of earth, grass, and sweat. And he had doubled down on the vibe with how he had fucked me against the wall. Right there in the open with hard, invasive thrusts, as if he was marking me with his cock. He was the type of man I’d always run from but might be the type I’d always needed.
He pulled me to the edge of my stool and lifted one leg over his, then the other, until I was all but straddling him, the push of his jeans against mine maddeningly stimulating.
"Kiss me." He pulled the beer out my hand and set it on the counter. Facing me, he cupped my face and stared into my eyes. I closed my eyes and exhaled.
A long moment passed, and nothing happened. I cracked an eye open.
He was smiling at me. "I didn't say, 'be kissed.' I said, 'kiss me.'"
Huffing in frustration, I fisted his shirt and yanked him toward me, the force of it pulling me off the edge of the stool and onto his lap. I attacked his mouth, surprised at how soft and supple his response was. His hands curved down my back and pulled me tighter to him.
God, I loved my mouth on his, the flex of his tongue under mine.
He rotated on his stool, taking me with him, pinning my back against the bar, his mouth breaking from mine long enough to speak.
"You want more?" he whispered. "Cause my dick wants to feel the inside of your mouth before I send you back to him."
"I want more," I gasped.
Two minutes later, we were in the bar’s bathroom.
It was cramped, a tiny cube with a pedestal sink screwed to the wall, condom dispenser on the wall, sticky tile beneath my feet.
He forced me back against the door, and it slammed shut in the frame. He tasted like beer and kissed me deeply, frantically. He pulled away long enough to work my red tank top over my head. He unhooked the back of my bra and skimmed the straps off my shoulders.
A heavy sigh tumbled from him as he scooped my newly freed breasts into his hands, his hold tender. "God, these are beautiful." His gorgeous mouth nibbled the delicate skin, and I inhaled deeply as his tongue circled my nipple, then sucked it into his mouth.
The back of my head dropped against the door as I heard the metal ting of his belt against the tile as his jeans fell. I skimmed his shirt off his muscular torso and then he was fully naked. His eyes, when they met mine, showed the breaking point of his control. And God, he was hard. I could see it in my peripheral vision, felt it as it bumped against me.
"Get on your knees," he rasped.
I had no interest in getting on that floor. I'm pretty sure it hadn't been cleaned in months. But I had every interest in taking him in my mouth. Every interest in making that raw look in his eyes continue. I snagged his pants, created a pillow for my knees, and dropped down.
Even though I'd done this a hundred times, it felt different. Opening my mouth, wrapping my hand around the complete stiffness that was his cock, licking my lips and hearing him inhale ... I'd never been this wet. Never wanted this so much. I craved his hard hand on the back of my head, the impatient thrust of his hips, needing to look up in his eyes and see both disrespect and desire in one heated stare. I dove down on his cock, pumped my hand, inhaled through my nose, and took as much of him as I could, gagging at times, my mouth finding a rhythm, the groans from his mouth letting me know I was doing it well.