Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
When was the last time a guy wanted to know more about me?
When was the last time I wanted to share more?
Because I’m suddenly hit by the need to do exactly that—to explore every position, every limit. Every square inch of my body and his.
My heart hammers. Good thing Sawyer and I only have one night. Any longer, and I think I might fall in love with the guy.
Giving his tip one last, lingering kiss, I lift my own head.
“That good enough for you?” I tease.
He grabs my face. “Get up here, gorgeous.”
I let him pull me in for a kiss as I tuck my body in beside his. He doesn’t mind tasting himself, clearly. And I don’t mind it either. The kiss is soft, tinged with an earthy flavor that wasn’t there before.
We’re both breathing hard. I notice my skin is still sticky from the champagne. And, yeah, the sex too.
“You’re real good at what you do,” he murmurs into my mouth. “That was—”
“Wild?” I laugh. “You’re welcome.”
He breaks the kiss. I open my eyes to see him looking at me, head turned on the pillow.
He’s finally smiling again. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but you just blew it all right out of the water.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I run my hand over the wiry hair on his chest, snuggling closer to soak up his warmth. “To let go. Have a little fun.”
Sawyer scoffs. “That was more’n a little fun.”
I flush with pleasure. “It was a lot of fun.”
“The most fun I’ve had in a long-ass time.” He trails a hand down my arm, brushing his fingers across the swell of my breast. He must notice the stickiness too, because he says, “Any chance you’ll let me clean you up again? For real this time? Shower’s pretty awesome.”
I blink at the question. I didn’t realize until, well, right now that while I definitely want to stay for another round, I assumed I’d get dressed and get the hell out of here.
I definitely should get dressed and get gone. Nothing worse than a hookup who lingers, right? He’s probably just trying to be polite, the way most guys are when they really want you to leave.
I shift, trying to roll away from him. “As nice as that sounds, I should probably get going—”
“Where do you think you’re runnin’ off to?” Sawyer’s hand wraps around my arm, keeping me close. “Stay. Please.”
Our eyes lock.
“Look, I totally get it if you want some peace and quiet—”
“I want you. All night.” His blue eyes search mine, full of earnestness and heat. “We got two boxes of condoms to get through, remember? And a whole other bottle of champagne. You’re not gonna make me drink it by myself, are you? I understand if you wanna leave, but … yeah. I’d really like you to stay.”
My stomach flips. I don’t know Sawyer well—let’s be real, I don’t know him at all—but somehow, I know he’s not fucking around. He means what he says.
He really does want me to stay. And Lord help me, that fact gives me butterflies.
“You really don’t get out much, huh?” I ask.
He grins. “Nope. We gotta make this count. So come take a shower with me. I’ll clean you up so I can get you all messy again.”
“I like the sound of that.”
I scurry to the bathroom to pee while Sawyer cleans himself up with the tissues he found beside the bed. I nearly laugh when I see the shower. It’s huge, the size of my bedroom in the new apartment Junie and I will be moving into next week, with high glass walls and two showerheads.
I scurry back out to the room to grab a hair clip from my purse. Sawyer’s heading toward me, still naked. He’s holding a pair of frosty water bottles in his hands, which he must’ve plucked from a hidden mini fridge somewhere.
“Gotta hydrate if we’re gonna go all night,” he explains, setting one bottle on the bedside table so he can unscrew the cap from the other. He holds it out to me. “Don’t want you giving up on me, pretty girl. I got big plans for you.”
I look at the water. Look at him. I don’t know why this small gesture has my heart doing backflips—am I really that shocked when a guy is kind or engages in an act of service?—but for a full beat, I can only stare at him.
“Thanks,” I say at last, taking the water and drinking a good bit of it down in a single gulp. “God, that’s good.”
“Riding is thirsty work.” He smirks as he brings his own bottle to his lips.
“It is when I’m riding you.”
He runs a hand over his naked stomach. “You sayin’ I make you thirsty?”
“Very.”
I think I’ve been dying of thirst for a while, but being with you makes me feel like I’m dancing in the rain. Water is suddenly everywhere.