Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
His gravelly voice whispers down my spine, “If you want me to stop, you say the word.”
I can’t even form words. I just shake my head, desperate, and lean in so our lips are almost touching.
He closes the distance with a kiss. Holy. Shit.
It’s not a polite, see-you-later peck either. It’s deep and hungry and possessive. His mouth crushes against mine, and the world goes out of focus. My body goes rigid for a split second, every neuron simultaneously combusting. Then I melt. Everything in me just liquefies, pouring straight into the kiss.
Hunter’s hand slides around the back of my neck, big and hot and steady, like he’s anchoring me to the moment. He strokes under my jaw with his thumb, tilting my face so he can kiss me deeper. I gasp into him, and he groans.
My brain turns to mush. My hands scrabble for purchase and wind up fisting the front of his shirt, dragging him impossibly closer. The kitchen, the world, everything disappears.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HUNTER
Her mouth is hot, soft, and a hundred times better than any of the fantasies that have shredded my self-control since the day I moved in. The taste of her—coffee, sugar, some innocent hint of vanilla—hits me like a punch to the chest. I want to take it slow, but there’s nothing patient about the way I cage her face in my hands, tilting her head just right so I can fit my mouth to hers again and again. Months of holding back. Months of pretending I didn’t want her. It all explodes out of me in this one moment.
She goes stiff, then melts, body collapsing into mine. Her hands scramble up my chest, knotting in the collar of my shirt with such desperation it drives me wild. The need in her is just as raw as mine, and that fucking destroys my control. I slide my hands down, thumbs grazing the hot pulse at her jaw, and she lets out the smallest, softest noise. Fuck. That sound causes my pulse to pound.
She gasps into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to sweep my tongue along her lower lip, tasting, demanding, begging her to let me all the way in. Her lips part and her tongue flicks against mine, and it’s like every nerve ending I’ve got just lights the hell up at once.
Buster’s wet nose nudges my ankle, but I’m too caught up in her to react. I ignore everything except her.
I’m not good at this. I’ve never been the guy who knows what to do with something delicate. But she’s not delicate, not exactly. She’s soft, yes, but there’s a stubborn core in her, a challenge in every single motion. When she finally breaks away, she’s panting, lips swollen, eyes gone electric blue and hazy.
For a second, we just stare at each other, the air thick and tight. The only sound is our frantic panting. Her cheeks are flushed. Her fingers tremble against my chest. I want to haul her right back in, pin her to the kitchen wall, and taste every inch of her, but I force myself to loosen my grip and step back just enough to let her breathe.
She looks up at me, lips quivering like she might start laughing or crying, or both. I swipe my thumb along her jaw, tracing the flushed heat there. My hands shake, and for once, I don’t bother hiding it. I can’t.
I don’t trust myself to say anything. Words were never my strong suit, and right now, I’m pretty sure if I opened my mouth, all that would come out would be a grunt or, God forbid, a whimper. Instead, I let my hand linger on her cheek, steadying both of us.
Buster’s had enough of our drama. He starts pawing at Iris’s shin, doing his little beagle whine like he’s the one who needs attention. She breaks the tension first, dropping her forehead to my chest and laughing, breathless and shaky.
“I think he’s jealous,” she whispers, her voice muffled by my shirt.
“Too bad,” I rasp. My voice is rough with something bigger than just arousal. “He’ll have to wait his turn.”
She makes a sound—a mix of a snort and a giggle—and I feel it vibrate against my ribcage. For a minute, we just stand there, clinging to each other, her head pressed to my chest, my arms around her like a vise.
I have no fucking clue what comes next. My brain is fried. All I know is that I want more. I want to know what she looks like when she’s sleepy and unguarded, what she feels like under my hands with nothing between us, what she feels like when I’m deep inside her sweet pussy. All of it.
But I also want her to know she’s safe. That she can trust me not to break her, that she can give me her heart. “Wow.” She steps back, putting a little distance between us.