Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
The room was set up so that one bed was opposite the wall-mounted TV while the other faced a closet. I had a hell of a time finding an angle where I could see the TV, trying various sitting and lounging positions as the movie started.
“Gonna strain something.” Carson shook his head at me before patting a spot next to him. “Come sit.”
“Sure.” I didn’t have a good reason to say no, so I went to sit beside him, careful to keep our feet from touching as I stretched my legs out.
“Better?” Carson had the audacity to ask, but then, he had no clue as to the massive amount of temptation I was wrestling with.
“Yeah,” I lied. I tried to focus on the movie, but I was hyperaware of Carson’s every breath and bodily shift. Oxygen continued to be in short supply, especially as Carson’s movements seemed to bring him closer. Our thighs brushed. Electricity crackled up my spine. With anyone else, I’d assume they were sending a deliberate signal. With Carson, however, I refused to guess wrong.
On the screen, the ragtag group of heroes argued about their plans to save Earth. I was much more concerned with saving our friendship. Carson shifted again, a subtle bump of his foot against mine. His gaze remained on the TV, yet his awareness seemed more on me, with a certain air of expectation in his body language. His foot moved again, too purposeful to be accidental.
“Carson?” I whispered, unsure what exactly I wanted to ask.
Head turning toward me, he met my gaze with questioning eyes. What question, though, remained a mystery. My breath caught in my lungs like a cold front had burst through the room. My throat burned. Carson didn’t look away, yet he also didn’t shift any closer or try to close the gap between our faces.
“Your move.” His voice was husky, barely loud enough to be heard over the TV.
Hell. If he had simply gone for it, I could have tumbled along, shoving logic to the side. By tossing the ball into my court, Carson ensured my brain had plenty of time to remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea.
“I shouldn’t.” I let out a low groan. My hands shook from wanting to haul him to me.
“But you want to.” Carson’s gaze never wavered.
“God, yes.” I squished my eyes shut.
“Then do it.” Carson made it sound so simple, a choice between chocolate or vanilla. His tone was casual, no hint of pressure, yet a weight bore down on my shoulders.
“We’re friends. The last thing I want is to ruin that.” I opened my eyes, not sure whether I was willing him to understand or asking him to convince me otherwise.
“I don’t do mess.” Carson’s tone was firm, steady like his gaze. I wasn’t sure I believed him that we weren’t about to screw everything up.
“This is a bad, bad idea,” I muttered as I leaned in anyway, my resistance shattering. Carson’s expression softened into a small, pleased smile seconds before I kissed him.
Chapter Thirteen
Carson
Jude fell into me like a bridge collapsing, all his restraint finally giving way to the kiss I’d spent half the movie angling for. The awareness I’d had for him since my arrival at the ranch had bloomed into an attraction I’d fought for weeks, now transformed into a fiery arousal thanks to the dancing I was done resisting. For all my reluctance to make the first move, I’d sure done everything in my power to get Jude to take that leap.
I’d had delicate high-school kisses, fumbling, fleeting late-night kisses, and awkward pecks goodbye, but I’d never met a kisser quite like Jude. He didn’t kiss as much as he consumed me. Here, at last, was a hunger to match my own. His kiss went from uncertain to overwhelming in a matter of seconds, and I welcomed the heady rush.
Jude’s mouth was as soft and generous as I’d suspected. His beard rasped against my skin as his tongue delved deeply, as if on a mission to meet my tonsils. I met him eagerly, sucking on his tongue, drinking down his moans like an energy drink right to my soul. Lost in the moment, I could have pretty easily climaxed from nothing more than kissing, especially when his hands began roaming down my shoulders and arms.
Jude being Jude, though, had to talk.
“What do you like?” He pulled back enough to ask.
“Dunno.” I wasn’t up for thinking, let alone talking. I flipped off the TV to make my point clearer that my attention was fully on getting more kissing. However, when I tugged him in for another kiss, he resisted.
“Wait.” His eyebrows knit together into one bushy line of concern. “You have done this before, right?”
“Define this.” I tried again for a second kiss. Jude was a freaking concrete pylon, though, unyielding and determined to be in my way.