Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“No,” he said. “Not unless we make it weird. I talked to Griffen already.”
That was a bucket of ice water, though a small one. “What do you mean you talked to Griffen already? When? What did you say?”
“In the hospital. I told him I kissed you.”
“What did he say?” I asked, curious. “He didn’t punch you or anything, did he?” I studied West’s face, looking for signs of a black eye I’d missed.
“No.” West grinned.
“Did you think he was going to punch you?” I asked.
“A little bit, maybe,” West said. “He said you could do worse and told me to not be an asshole, which I try not to do anyway.”
“And that was it?” I raised an eyebrow, not sure how I felt about this.
“That was it,” he said, running his hands up my back, sliding under my t-shirt, his callused fingertips delicious on my skin. I tried to focus on the conversation, just a little longer.
“No big brother posturing,” I pressed. “No ‘break her heart and I’ll break your face’?”
West shook his head, hands dropping to squeeze my hips. “I think that was all implied. I’m pretty sure if you told him I was being a jackass, he’d beat the shit out of me. Or he’d try. And if I really was being a jackass, I’d probably let him.”
“So... So we’re good to, you know, whatever?” I asked, butterflies taking off in my stomach.
“Assuming you’re up for—” he raised an eyebrow. “Whatever.”
“All these years,” I said, tracing a finger along the curve of his lower lip. “You were Griffen’s best friend. I always thought you were hot, but, you know, brother’s best friend, too old, too grown up, all that stuff.”
“I’m not that much older than you,” he said.
“Yeah, but when you’re fifteen...”
“You thought I was hot when you were fifteen?” His lips curled in a satisfied grin.
I rolled my eyes. “You knew you were hot when I was fifteen.”
“Yeah, but you were just a kid.”
“Not that much of a kid. Not at fifteen. Anyway. I always thought you were hot, but somehow I never thought we’d end up here.” I squirmed on his lap, feeling the ridge of his growing erection exactly where I wanted it, minus the layers of clothes between us. “But now that we’re here…” My hands dropped to the button at the top of his shirt.
“Now that we’re here,” he repeated.
“Now that we’re here, I can’t figure out why we didn’t do this sooner.” I dove in, pressing my lips to his, done with talking. I didn’t get very far with the buttons before West surged to his feet, his hands sliding down to cup my ass, tightening, lifting, and settling me against him. He carried me down the hall, I was hoping towards his bedroom, but at this point, I’d take any flat surface if it meant West would be there with me, preferably naked.
I had a split-second view of his neatly made bed in muted greens before he set me on my feet, and I went after the rest of the buttons on his shirt. I hadn’t seen him without a shirt on in years, and I needed to, desperately. I needed to get my hands on his warm skin, needed to touch and taste.
I stripped the shirt over his shoulders, letting him handle getting it off his arms as I went for the hem of the white t-shirt beneath, yanking it up. He pulled it over his head, dropping both to the floor, and my mouth went dry. The sprinkle of dark hairs on his chest only highlighted the lean muscle, his broad shoulders. He wasn’t weightlifter-built, but there was power there. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the hard curves, the heat of his skin.
His fingers closed over the bottom of my sweater, pulling it over my head. “Fuck, Avery,” he let out a breath. My bra wasn’t the sexiest in my collection, but that didn’t seem to matter. He traced a fingertip over the curve of my breast before sliding the straps off my shoulders and unsnapping it in the back. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he said, cupping my now bared breasts in his palms. “Fucking amazing.”
He slid his hands down my sides, closing them around my waist, turning me, easing me back onto the bed, the comforter cool under my bare back, his fingers working at my zipper, then sliding my jeans over my hips, taking my underwear with them. I was spread out in front of him, naked, legs parted, looking up into West’s dark, hot eyes.
He moved forward, and I shook my head. “Don’t even think about getting in this bed until you lose the rest of your clothes.”
West’s eyes narrowed further, drinking in every inch of me, lingering on my breasts, my legs, the shadows between. He flicked the button open on his jeans and shoved them down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard. My fingers stretched, itching to touch. I needed to know what he felt like in my hands, in my mouth, inside me. He kicked off his jeans and socks and landed on the mattress beside me, pulling me further onto the bed, wrapping me in his arms, his legs twining with mine.