Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
I’m not even a little bit subtle about the way my pulse slams into overdrive. I hand off Oliver’s coffee, barely trusting my grip, and the heat in his eyes nearly sets my sweatshirt on fire. He doesn’t just look, he claims.
“Careful,” I murmur, voice cracking, “that’s enough caffeine to keep you up all night.”
He smirks, leaning in until his lips are a breath from my ear. “That’s the plan. I doubt we’ll get any more sleep tonight than we did last night.” The words hit me everywhere, my knees actually buckling.
Before he turns to leave, he leans over the counter and kisses me. Right there. In front of everyone.
It’s not a peck, either. It’s a slow, deep, possessive claim—his lips hot, his hand cupping my cheek. For a second, the bakery goes dead silent, and all I can hear is my own heartbeat. Well, the word’s out now. Gossip spreads like wildfire in Worthington Hills, so I’m sure everyone in town will know about my new relationship with Oliver by dinner time.
Then he’s gone, just like that, sweeping out the door with a final look that could short-circuit every appliance in the place. My hands fly to my face. I am not okay.
Nope. I’m totally in love with Oliver Burkhardt. And I couldn’t be happier.
10
oliver
It started small, like all the best obsessions do.
Monday night, she's waiting on my sofa when I drag my dead-tired ass through the door. She's curled up with her legs tucked beneath her, dark hair spilling over one shoulder of her cream sweater that's slipped just enough to reveal the curve where her neck meets her collarbone. One look at her—those mischievous eyes glancing up from her phone, that knowing half-smile—and the twelve-hour workday evaporates from my muscles. Exhaustion transforms into something electric, a hunger that starts at the base of my spine and spreads outward like wildfire.
For a split second, I wonder if this is what other people call “domestic bliss.” I’ve never been a fan of that phrase—too soft, too boring. But with Cydney on my sofa, cheeks flushed and eyes crinkling with mischief, it’s more like “domestic thrill ride.”
I drop my briefcase and pull her straight into my arms. “You’re late,” she murmurs against my chest.
My cock jumps at the sound of her voice. I tighten my grip, squeezing her soft curves against me, not willing to let her go for even a second. “Not my fault you make time stand still.” I bury my nose in her hair and inhale deeply. Jesus, she smells like vanilla and something warm and sweet. My entire body goes on red alert, every muscle hungry for her.
Cydney laughs, head tucked under my jaw, arms winding around my waist. “Smooth, Burkhardt. How many hours did you spend workshopping that line?”
“Only all fucking day.” I press my lips to her temple, not even pretending to play it cool. “It’s why I had to stay late to get my shit done.”
She tilts her head up, those big brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “You hungry?”
Fuck. My cock goes rock hard at the way she says it, all casual and innocent, like she doesn’t know she’s the only thing I crave. I can’t help myself—I catch her jaw in my hand and force her to look at me, eyes locked, heat pouring out of every inch of me.
“For you,” I growl, voice rough enough to sand wood. “I like my dessert first.”
Her cheeks flush, and her lips curve into that wicked little smirk that makes me want to ruin her on every surface in this apartment. She slides to her knees right in front of me. Holy fuck. My heart slams into overdrive as my cock turns to stone, and already, it feels like my entire body is about to explode.
She palms my zipper, slow as sin, and glances up at me with those huge brown eyes. “Actually, I think I’m the one getting dessert first,” she murmurs. My cock jerks like it just got hit with a live wire.
Before I can even catch my breath, she’s already got my pants open, belt clattering onto the hardwood. Her fingers, soft and quick, tug my cock free of my boxer briefs. The cool air shocks my skin for a split second before her cherry-red lips wrap around the head.
The heat of her mouth, velvet and hungry, rolls through me in a surge that damn near knocks the world off its axis. Her tongue teases with slow, controlled circles, every pass deliberate. My vision goes fuzzy at the edges, knees ready to give out; I’m seconds from blacking out, and she’s barely started.
She works me with her mouth like she’s daring me to lose control. I grab the back of her head and groan, desperate and wrecked.
“Fuck, baby, just like that,” I rasp as she works her hot little mouth up and down my cock. I bury both hands in her hair, gripping tight. She moans around me, sending vibrations through my shaft and damn near making me black out.