Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I fully expect his touch to be sexual, maybe a brush of a finger over my nipple or the slide of a thumb through my blooming arousal.
My eyes flutter closed as I feel the brush of a single finger tracing the collarbone on my right.
I suck in a breath because he might as well have pressed two fingers inside of me for the way my body responds to him.
"I ache," I confess, my eyes still closed, feeling more than a little vulnerable.
"I do too," he whispers, the warmth of his breath blooming on my skin.
When he pulls his hand back, I'm able to open my eyes, only I don't find him watching me. Instead, I see his back as he walks away.
"Ready to get down?" Roxie asks.
It takes me a moment of staring off in the direction he disappeared before I can gather enough wits to answer. When she unties me, I find my legs a little wobblier than they have ever felt before.
After getting dressed and going to look for him, I can't help the wave of disappointment I feel when he's not sitting with Lark.
I refuse to approach the other man and make a quick path to the exit, my body still on fire from the interaction with Jersey.
Chapter 10
Jersey
I consider the fact that I might be just as bad as one of the sick fucks I've spent a lifetime putting in the path of justice, but even feeling that way didn't stop me from slinking around in the fucking shadows and waiting for her to leave the damn sex club.
I ache.
I swear, hearing her whisper those words nearly made me blow my fucking load in my jeans like a goddamned teen boy.
I had to walk away.
I had to put a little distance between the two of us.
I'm playing with fire, messing with something that involves more than just me, although I can't seem to stop.
There's a selfish part deep down inside of me that wants to ignore the demand issued by Jericho. It's not as if I'm hounding her at the cabin or interrupting Eli's therapy sessions, but I fully understand where he's coming from.
My obsession with the good doctor will go nowhere. I may spend a few hours between her legs, but this isn't even close to a love match. It's hard to even think of it that way, considering love is only for foolish fucks.
It makes people ignore those whispers in your head that warn you to take caution. Love ruins lives. Love costs you everything you've ever had and leaves you an empty shell of yourself. I know all too well what love does to a man, and I have no desire for anything that even resembles it.
That's why staying away from her is pertinent.
At least, that's what I'm telling myself, despite being parked down the road from her house.
Like a fucking psycho, I followed the woman home. Something that sick fuck who circled her earlier also could've easily done.
Thankfully, I watched that piece of shit leave with someone else while I was lurking outside, waiting for her to leave the building.
My heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest as I stare at her house. She's aware enough to have all of her curtains fully closed. As proud as that makes me, I also wish there was one window with a crack of light that would give me a little insight into her world.
I grip the steering wheel of the SUV tighter, wondering just how many curse words Lark has muttered since I left him alone at the club with no way home. The man is resourceful. He'll figure it out.
I told him leaving was an emergency and took off before he could question me.
I can't recall a moment when I've fought something so hard in my life as I'm battling to not get out of this vehicle and climb the stairs to her little house.
I know if I don't get out of this vehicle and go to her that I'm going to itch all fucking night, but that's a me problem, not a her problem. The last thing that woman needs is me making her life more complicated.
Jericho demanded I stay away from her, but the discomfort inside me at just the idea of driving away feels stronger than whatever fallout could happen if I obey this urge.
Leaving doesn't feel like an option, and a devious part of me wants to sneak across the yard, walk around her entire house, and find a way just to watch her, but those thoughts are completely fucked. It's not who I am. I'm not some pervert, despite the raging fucking hard-on I have right now just sitting outside her house.
Jesus, I'm becoming one of the men I hate.
With that thought burning like acid in my brain, I flip the switch on the console, turning off the inside light so I'm not like a beacon in the dark when I open the driver's side door of the SUV.