Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
But I didn’t. I got caught up in the verbal volleyball I found I immensely enjoyed with him. Ivy League graduates, billionaires, CEOs… None of them could keep up with me, could amuse me.
And yet this small-town fisherman was keeping up with me, not missing a beat. Worse, he was seeing me.
In a way not even those I shared blood with were capable of.
Which couldn’t be logical, given our scant interactions.
But it must’ve been true since he caught me off guard. No man, not since the event, had the ability to catch me unaware, to grasp the back of my neck and haul my body to his in order to kiss me.
I had learned to guard my body like a fortress, knowing how easily it was for a man to think he could conquer it. My defenses were impenetrable, fortified, perfected like my very life depended on it. Because it did.
Despite all of that, Elliot broke through.
I had the power to get him off me the second his hand settled on my neck. The second he invaded my personal space. I’d been trained by some of the deadliest people in the world in order to make myself into a weapon instead of a victim.
I could’ve broken his wrist, his nose, killed off a few million sperm with a well-placed knee.
But I didn’t.
I let him grab me.
Worse, I let him kiss me.
Just for a second, I told myself. Just to see what it tasted like. A man like him.
He tasted of mint.
He smelled of salt and spice.
He was warm, strong.
And then a second became more.
His hand stayed on the back of my neck, the other coasting to my lower back as he pushed his way inside.
Again, it was something I could’ve stopped.
Should’ve stopped.
Instead, I did the unthinkable, something I promised myself I’d never do with a man ever again.
I surrendered.
I let him slam the door closed, I let him push me against the wall, caging me in. Taking control.
All of these actions should’ve been spiking nerve endings long attuned to understand the danger of such things. And I did hear the alarm bells ringing in my head. But they were overpowered by the rush of desire unlike anything I’d ever felt… Ever.
Our hands and mouths crashed against each other until he grasped my wrists with one of his large hands, pulling them upward, lips at my neck.
He kept me there, restrained with impressive strength as his lips wasted no time in traveling to where my peaked nipples were damn near piercing the cotton of my tee.
I let out a gasp as his mouth covered the fabric, sucking at my nipple, the friction and sensation sending pleasure shooting through my veins.
His hand slipped underneath my tee, rough palm against my bare skin, over my belly button, skating upward to the underside of my breast, cupping it as he sucked my other nipple through the fabric.
Then his mouth was gone, his hand at the hem of my shirt, his eyes boring into mine.
“Keep your arms up,” he rasped.
I didn’t say anything, just kept my eyes on him and my hands up, my heart hammering in my chest and my pelvic region throbbing with need.
He pulled my shirt up and over my head in one quick and smooth move. My skin prickled with the slight chill to the air, stark against the inferno that Elliot had sparked over every inch of my body.
Elliot sucked an audible breath through his teeth as his eyes feasted on my tits. Feasted.
I had nice tits. I was used to men appreciating them. But never in the way Elliot was, as if he were committing them to memory so he could sculpt them later.
He was looking at me like I was a masterpiece, and he hadn’t even gotten me fully naked yet.
My arms were starting to ache from where I’d kept them up, so I began to bring them to my sides.
Elliot’s eyes smoldered at my movement.
“Did I tell you you could move?” His voice was smooth, deep and commanding.
I blinked at the sentence, completely caught unaware at the hint of darkness to it. I licked my lips, instantly liking it, loving that he had the ability to surprise me. Clearly, he had hidden depths. I wanted to swim in them. Drown in them.
I kept a rebellious stare locked on his eyes, sending my hands downward. Hooking them around the waistband of my pants and panties, I bent to take them both off. It was what I was used to, what I needed to do to regain control of this ship. Take charge, show the man I was setting the pace. That I dictated what parts of my body, what parts of myself I did and didn’t show.
The second I kicked my pants away, standing naked in front of a fully-clothed Elliot but feeling like I had the upper hand, Elliot’s hand circled both of my wrists, making my small bones feel delicate under his grip but not tightening anywhere near the point of pain.