Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Just being real. Why did you say no?” I ask again.
She’s quiet for a beat, her eyes serious. “I didn’t feel any sparks. Sparks are important. And that’s why I need to find someone for you that you’ll have sparks with.”
Fuck that. I have no interest in setups right now. “You said I’d need a few dating lessons before you set me up again,” I point out, like I’ve caught her on a technicality.
“Yes, that’s true.”
Since we’re being honest, I add, “And I need to be the kind of man I can live with. The kind my parents would be proud of. The kind my daughter would be proud of too. And that kind of man isn’t going to see someone else even platonically,” I say, pausing to let that word sink in, “while he’s practice-dating someone else.”
There. It’s a line in the sand. And really, how can she argue here? She can still give me all the dating lessons she wants as a coach.
She stares through the windshield into the inky black night, the stars winking in the dark sky. Then she turns back to me wearing that serious expression on her face that I’ve seen a few times tonight. “I hear you,” she says, before she looks toward the door of her parents’ home.
A sign.
I read it loud and clear this time, saying a soft but clear, “Let me walk you to the door.”
“Okay.”
I get out, circle around the car, and head along the stone pathway to the porch, ready to say goodnight. But before we reach the steps, she stops, sets a hand on my chest. “I lied.”
“About what?” I ask, my guard up.
She closes her eyes, then opens them. They sparkle with desire. She grabs the collar of my sweater. “When I said I’m the best at resisting.” Her lips curve into a grin.
I smirk. “You’re the worst at it.”
Her fist tightens on my sweater. “I am.”
Easing closer, I cup her cheek. “But so am I.”
I run my thumb along her jawline in a slow and tender caress. She sighs into it, her cheek tilting into my hand. Something like relief floods her features—a softness to counter her sadness from earlier.
Her shoulders relax. She parts her lips, giving in to these sparks. I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her for a second time.
But it feels like the first.
26
A COUPLE WILD RACCOONS
ISLA
This isn’t an accidental kiss under the mistletoe. It’s deliberate.
This is a line I never thought I’d cross. He’s my brother’s best friend. He’s my leading client. He’s the man I can’t stop thinking about.
In less than two seconds, Rowan’s lips crush mine. He consumes my mouth in a hot, deep kiss that wastes no time. It’s all teeth and fire, bruised lips and hands grabbing at shirts and hair.
He holds my face in both hands like he’s claiming this kiss. His tongue skates across mine. Our teeth clack. Our lips explore.
It’s possessive, a little rough, and everything I’ve tried to resist. I’ve wanted this so badly, and it’s unlike any other kiss I’ve had in my life. It’s urgent and hungry in a whole new way. His beard scrapes across my face, and I don’t even care. It’s cold outside, and I barely notice the chill.
I let go of his collar and rope my arms around his neck, asking for more, pulling him closer. He guides me a few steps back, away from the stone pathway till I’m leaning against the cold wood slats of my parents’ house.
With a groan that seems to rise from deep within him, Rowan answers the call, pressing his body against mine. I gasp. The feel of him against me is…mind-boggling. He’s big, and strong, and…hard.
My head spins from want. My body aches. Rowan deepens the kiss. My entire body feels liquid. I’ll be bruised and whisker-burned when I head into my parents’ home, and I don’t have it in me to care.
All my restraint is long gone. It’s packed up, and I couldn’t find it if I tried. I slide my hands into the back of his hair, and his throat rumbles. I file that away—Rowan likes when I touch his hair.
I can’t believe I know this.
I don’t want to un-know this.
I rope my fingers through his soft hair. He holds my face harder. We’re a portrait of desperation, a hot, passionate kiss outside of my childhood home.
This is everything I tried to resist. I feel out of control. I let go of his neck and slide my hands down the front of his sweater, feeling the outline of his outrageously firm chest under the soft material. Cashmere, I think.
I reach his stomach, spreading my hands over the cashmere, tracing the outline of his abs, then looping my hands around to his…holy firm ass.
I wrench apart, breaking the kiss. “Nice butt.”