Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
A flash of lightning illuminates the room, and we both pause. Our eyes meet and hold. I nod. He bites his lip and impales me on his cock, and a crack of thunder swallows my gasp. We stare at each other as I seat myself and remember how to breathe. Then I tighten my body around his girth, and his eyes stutter closed. “Fuck.”
I’m not sure who moves first. He rolls his hips, and I use my knees for leverage.
“Mmh,” he grunts as we find our rhythm. “God.”
I can’t even speak.
His hands grip my hips, guiding me, asking for more. The pressure building inside me is almost unbearable—sweet and sharp and overwhelming. My nails dig into his shoulders. I need something to anchor me as the room spins.
Another flash of lightning, another growl of thunder. His breath comes hot against my neck as he pulls me closer, his chest flush against mine. “Darcy,” he whispers. “Honey.”
Honey. I file that away to remember later. When we’re back in the real world with its rules and expectations.
I strain against him. The sweet friction is too much and not enough.
“Look at me,” he demands, one hand sliding up to cradle my face.
And I do, though it costs me. Because the rawness of his expression guts me. Our mouths crash together. Time slips. We move together, faster now, chasing release, chasing something I can’t name. His breath hitches, and I feel him tense beneath me.
The thunder crashes again, and this time, I let myself fall.
Chapter 26
And the Ottoman
Darcy
I’m face down on the bed. But still, the sunlight begins to invade my consciousness.
Bright sunlight. It’s so mean. Yet my body is relaxed, almost liquid with satisfaction. And consciousness comes slowly, reluctantly—as if my subconscious knows better than to wake up and face reality.
When my eyes flicker open, I’m not in my own bed. I see fine white hotel linens. And when I let my eyes travel farther, the reality of the situation crashes into me with devastating clarity.
Eric. Last night. Hovering over me in this bed.
After the ottoman.
And the shower.
A delicious shiver ripples through me as memories flood back—his hands, his mouth, the way he’d whispered my name against my skin. Exactly as I’d always craved. No, better. The satisfaction I’d felt was more potent than just sexual gratification. With each kiss, it’s like my whole soul said finally.
But now he knows. He saw exactly how I really feel about him. Last night I let it all show. Every moan. Every bite mark that I left on his body. Every time I yelled his name.
The realization is so intense I have to close my eyes again for a moment, just to steady myself. When I open them, I take in his bare arm at close range. The muscles flex slightly as he taps on a laptop set up on the mattress beside me.
The problem is that I didn’t think this far ahead. I don’t have a script for this moment. I know I’m supposed to play it cool, except I’m not a very good actor.
Keep it together, Kendrick. I sneak another glance at him, trying to read his expression. Will he be awkward, too? Or even regretful?
“What are you doing?” I ask, and it comes out a little rough.
He gives me a glance, and I get my first glimpse of those gray eyes. He looks… comfortable. Like waking up next to me is the most natural thing in the world. And maybe that’s almost worse.
This is just a fling, I remind myself. Even if last night felt like the most honest thing I’ve experienced in years.
“Waiting for you to wake up,” he says. “So we can order room service.” He gives me a quick smile, and my body temperature climbs three degrees. That smile should be illegal. I’ve seen it a thousand times, but never like this—never from this close, never with the memory of it pressed against my lips. “And I’m reading tips for how to succeed in a hedge maze.”
“Um, sorry?” I manage, trying desperately to gather my scattered thoughts.
He shifts one of his knees on the bedsheet, nudging my leg. “The hedge maze is the next activity in the Wedding Experience. Get with the program, Kendrick. An hour from now, we need to get through faster than the rest of them.”
My sleepy brain tries to make sense of this. “There’s no championship cup, Tremaine. So this is for pride?” Because I think I lost mine the second I scaled him like a tree in the elevator last night.
Right before all the clothes were tossed onto the floor. And the heated skin on skin…
“Winning is fun, but that’s not the point,” he says, breaking through my steamy memories. “Do you want to spend all day in a maze? Because I have better things to do. Like hitting the beach and finding out whether or not you packed that green bikini. Rubbing sunscreen all over your back…” His gray eyes tilt in my direction again, but they look heated. “And that’s just the early part of the day.”