Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Not on Jackie. Not even on her memory.
The only thing stopping him from kissing her—and more—was himself.
He was his own damn cockblock.
In reality, his world hadn’t gotten darker, or spiraled out of control, when he fucked her the other night. If anything, everything around him had become brighter.
At the time, he didn’t want to see it for what it was…
Liyah was a spot of color in his grayscale world.
He dipped his head further, until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers, until their breaths melded.
Since they were now too close to focus on each other, he closed both the small gap between them and his eyes until his lips briefly touched hers.
Soft, warm and inviting.
She curled her fingers around the back of his head and pulled him down for another light lip touch.
“Liyah,” he breathed as he dragged his lips over hers once, twice… before that gentle kiss turned hungry.
Because he was fucking starved.
For touch.
For attention.
For anything and everything this woman could give him.
And what she was giving him, at the moment, was an erection.
Wrapping one arm around her back and the other around her hips, he pulled her closer, proving to her just how much she turned him on.
In case she had any doubt.
For fuck’s sake, he wanted her.
That realization fucked with his head because he never thought he’d want any woman as much as he had wanted Jackie. It also made guilt circle the outskirts of his brain. He did his best to shove it away so it didn’t take over and ruin this moment.
Because this kiss was a moment. Their moment.
He wanted it to be all about them and no one else. Not Jackie. Not Mark. Not her father or his brotherhood.
Only Nox and Aaliyah.
In a closet. In a community center. After a grief group.
The group created to help people move on.
He originally didn’t think attending would help.
But in reality, it was. Just not in the way it was intended.
Her long nails dragged through his hair before she dug them into the back of his neck, returning him to the moment. And her.
She also caught his attention when her teeth scraped across his bottom lip. And when her tongue twisted with his.
This woman was not shy. She went after what she wanted.
She apparently wanted him, and he had no idea why. He figured it would be in his best interest not to ask.
But if she had only wanted to use him for sex, last Friday would’ve been a good enough reason for her to look elsewhere. Because there was no fucking way this woman was desperate and would screw any Tom, Dick or Harry.
Or Brad.
Christ, his cock was a steel pipe in his damn jeans. They should move this elsewhere before it went any further.
He turned his head enough to break the seal on their lips. “Doing this here is not smart.”
“Kissing?”
“Is that all you want?”
She didn’t hesitate to answer, “No.”
“Right.”
“In that case… My kids are home, so my place is out. How about yours?”
The fuck if he was bringing her to his place. At. The. Plant. Where his brothers or his fellow task force members would see her.
And possibly hear them.
Ask prying questions.
Rib the fuck out of him.
Maybe even want to give him a fucking high-five.
No, fuck that. That wasn’t going to happen.
He was not bringing her to his place.
The little peace he got would be destroyed. He loved his brothers, would have their six until the day he died, but they were assholes.
“Nox?”
He shook himself mentally. “Can’t go to my place.”
“Why?”
He decided to tell her the truth. Partially. She didn’t need to know about the task force since that wasn’t public information. “I live above the BAMC’s church.”
“Your room isn’t big enough for both of us?”
Shit. “It’s not the size of my place that’s the issue. It’s—”
“Dealing with your brothers,” she finished for him. “I get it because I’ve seen it. They can be nosy shits and you want to keep anything between us private.”
Damn, it was nice dealing with a woman who accepted an answer, understood why it was answered in that way and didn’t argue. “Yes.”
“Well, then… Close the door, Nox.”
Next issue… “I don’t have a condom.” For fuck’s sake, he needed to tuck one or two into his wallet. Of course, after he went out and bought some first, since he stopped using them years ago.
Not carrying protection just derailed this whole thing.
“I do.”
She what? “You do?” He frowned. “Why?” The other day she admitted, like him, she hadn’t had sex in a while, so why was she carrying condoms?
“On the off chance I had the opportunity to have sex in a community center closet with a member of my grief group. In fact, I think one of those condoms is labeled for that particular use.”
The fact that she managed to say all that with a serious expression…