Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"You mean your brother, Cortez?" I ask, genuinely curious. It's not every day you meet someone related to a legitimate billionaire.
"You've done your homework." He draws to a stop in front of a door, pulling a keycard from his back pocket. "I'm impressed."
"I may not look the part, but I am a professional, Crue." I place my hand on his arm, earnest. "I just finished an internship with Apollo Press, and I have well over two million followers on social media. I post about music exclusively."
"Damn, baby," he whistles. "You've been working your ass off, haven't you?"
"I have, but it's worth it."
He meets my gaze, smiling like he's proud of me. My stomach turns another somersault and I get lost in his eyes. I kind of want to stay there, lost. It seems heavenly.
He slowly lifts his hand toward my face. I don't move. I barely breathe. He gently cups my cheek, his palm rough against my skin. "You're going to fucking own me, aren't you, Ireland?"
I don't know where the response comes from. I certainly don't give my mouth permission to speak it. But my lips part anyway.
"Yes," I say, my voice clear and firm. "That's the plan, Crue."
He groans, his mouth crashing down on mine. I gasp as he pulls me up against him, trapping me against the door and his body at the same time. I feel every inch of him pressed against me as his mouth moves over mine, annihilating any defense I had against him…if I ever had one at all.
He kisses me as if he's never tasted anything sweeter than my lips, growling like he's mad about it. But he can't seem to stop coming back for more. He nips and licks, doing things with his tongue that have my entire body aching. I twist my fingers up in his shirt, pulling him closer, moving with him.
I have no idea if I'm doing it right, but he isn't complaining, and his erection is wedged against my lower belly so I'm guessing I don't suck at it.
"Crue," I whisper, not sure what I'm trying to ask him. For more? For him to get me in his room before I combust? I have no idea. But as soon as I say his name, he growls, dragging his mouth from mine.
"Fuck," he groans, burying his face in my hair. "You can't do that in public. I have no self-control around you."
"I didn't do anything," I mumble. "You're the one who kissed me."
"You just told me you plan to own my ass. You're damn right I kissed you," he growls, brushing my hair aside to press his lips to my throat. "Don't say sexy shit like that if you don't want me fucking you up against the door next time, Éire."
"I'm not doing it for the first time against a door."
He freezes, pulling back slowly to look at me. "What'd you say, baby?"
"What?" Oh. Crap.
"What did you just say?"
"N-nothin'," I lie, peeking around. "Did you hear something? Maybe you heard the neighbors. I bet the walls are paper thin here."
"Ireland." His lips twitch. "As fucking cute as you're being right now, I need you to be serious, sweet girl. Are you a virgin?"
"I'm not having this conversation in the hall of a hotel," I hiss, my cheeks burning hot.
He eyes me for a moment and then shifts me forward an inch. A second later, the door clicks open behind me. Before I can even move, he's shuffling me through it. It slams behind him, and then I'm pressed against it, my laptop bag still dangling from his arm.
"Now," he says, "we're not in the hall. Tell me the truth. Are you a virgin?"
"Yes." I lift my chin, meeting his gaze. "And I'm not ashamed of it either." I'm not…exactly. I'm just tired of being judged for it. In a world where we're now allowed to be as sexual as we want with no judgments, sometimes, it feels as if we're not allowed to make a different decision for ourselves. We can have all the sex we want, but as soon as we decide that we want to wait for the right one, everyone has something to say about it. They assume we're either crazy, religious or just naïve.
I'm none of those things. Well, I mean, I'm a little crazy. And maybe a little naïve. But I believe in romance and soulmates. I want my first time to mean something. Most of my friends who had sex in high school or college didn't last through the end of the year with their partners. I made a different choice for myself, and I don't regret it.
"Good girl." He brushes his lips against mine in a sweet kiss and then runs a single finger down the center of my body, all the way to my hips. His gaze tangles with mine as he cups my sex through my dress.