Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Mmm,” I hum, not meaning to do that aloud but not caring that I did.
Charlie’s left hand moves under my bottom and squeezes. A giggle escapes when I smile.
“God, I love your laughter.”
He looks up at me, his lashes framing his baby blues, and he smirks. Yep, smirks. I’m weak to a smirk, always have been, but his is especially devilish. My knees fly together, gripping him between them, and I don’t bother letting go.
His hand slides down my thigh before touching the back of my knee. His fingertips draw figure eights before he swerves over my calf muscle to my ankle, pausing on my foot. My shoe is removed and dropped to the floor, and the other one follows with a thud.
We’re clothed, but I feel so much closer to him already. My heart is open and bare to him, welcoming him. With that realization, my mind is made up. I’m going to enjoy my night and stop worrying about the past.
Chapter 11
Charlie A
Her hands flatten across my chest then she fists my shirt, pulling me to her, wanting more just like I do. I can’t stop my hips from seeking a connection of their own. I have a beautiful woman lying beneath me who is everything I’ve been missing in my life, and I don’t want to screw this up. My heart skips a beat every time I look into her pretty blue eyes, so I avoid them, trying to control my emotions.
I groan when our bodies press together. I love the feel of her but hold myself above her, not wanting my full weight on her slender frame . . . yet. I’m not sure how far she wants to go or how far we should go, but something tells me tonight isn’t the night for us to make love. She’s more than tipsy, though not drunk. Even so, I would never want to take advantage of her that way. I saw how she calculated the aftermath of her decision a few moments earlier and how her eyes brightened when she made up her mind. She wants to be here, and that makes my heart soar in ways I haven’t felt in a long time.
I kiss her, loving the feel of her lips, the taste of her mixed with hints of beer. I love the way she kisses with passion. As if this is the last kiss she’ll ever give. Little does she know, if she’ll let me, I might want to kiss her forever.
She suddenly pushes me up, sliding her body into a sitting position, then swings her legs off the bed. “I’m gonna take my dress off, and since your being dressed like that gets me all hot and bothered, I can only imagine you’re even better without clothes. I want you shirtless and pantless. That’s only fair, right?”
She’s bold, and damn, that’s attractive.
“Yep,” I say, “that’d be the only fair thing to do.”
I want to rip her clothes off and then my own, but the virtue of patience holds great rewards. So I calm myself despite everything I’m feeling inside. Behind my back, I shake my hands one at a time. I’m not used to these kinds of nerves. Women never make me nervous, yet this one . . . she entices me into her world without even trying.
As I look her over, my eyes linger on the curve of her cheek. I worry that if I rush, all of this will happen too fast, and I won’t get to appreciate our time together. One deep breath follows another. “Come here.”
She moves closer. No obvious doubts cloud her eyes. I’m rewarded with a smile when I run my hand up her arm and over her shoulder, caressing the back of her neck before taking the top of the zipper pull and dragging it lower.
“You look incredible in this dress, but I can’t lie and say I’m not looking forward to seeing you out of it.”
Running her hand over my chest, she unbuttons my shirt and yanks it down my shoulders. She undoes one of my cuffs, then the other, and my shirt falls just as her dress does. I take a deep breath when I see her in front of me, all creamy skin dotted lightly with freckles and goose bumps. Her waist curves in, and her stomach is flat but soft.
Her strapless black bra and panties pop against her pale skin. Nothing about her is fake—just wonderfulness in its natural form. Watching her as I undo my belt, I slip my shoes off and socks, then pull my undershirt up and over my head. I step out of my pants and leave them on the floor. She smiles and giggles as if she’s remembering an inside joke. She’s irresistibly adorable. I grab her, taking her by surprise, and laugh as she squeals.