Page 96 of The Best Book Boyfriend
I lead him up to my room and pull him down to lie with me. I can’t stop smiling and we take it slow, staring at each other, kissing gently, stroking each other’s faces like we can’t believe this is really happening.
“How many Book Boyfriends have you had in this bed?” he whispers.
“Oh, hundreds.”
“And how many nights have you thought about me?”
“A few,” I tease.
“Only a few?” He nips at my hip, a perfect excuse to tug up my top and sneak his hand underneath. Warm fingers slip over my skin, kneading, scratching, smoothing.
“Maybe a few hundred.”
“I haven’t even known you that many days.”
“Oh, but I’m in bed multiple times a day, Luke.” I roll onto my back and count them off on my fingers. “Early evening, late evening, middle of the night, first thing in the morning. I’m quite a fan of a mid-afternoon nap.”
“I can’t tell whether you’re confessing that you’re incredibly lazy or incredibly filthy.”
“Definitely both.”
“What have you thought about me?” he asks, his thumb sweeping over my lips.
I laugh, a bashful red creeping up my neck. “So much, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“OK, tell me later. If you tell me now, we might never make it back to mine.” He grips the crook of my knee, lifting it over his hip before rolling himself over me. His knees nudge my thighs apart with barely any effort, and I want to remember this moment forever. The light from the window, the scent of him so close, his thumbs caressing the soft skin of my wrists as he pins them either side of my head. My pulse thrums under his touch.
“You look good like this.”
My feet instinctively hook around his back. I lift my hips to press against him, but he sits up and grips the sides of my waist, pushing me down into the mattress.
“Nope.”
“Why not?” I whine. I’m so needy for this man.
“I want you in my bed.” He climbs off of me and off the bed entirely. “Get packing so I can take you home.”
I fist my duvet and thrash about. “But I can’t think straight.”
“Book, hairbrush, underwear, change of clothes. Bring pyjamas. Or don’t. You won’t be wearing them tonight.”
“I won’t?”
“Definitely not. But bring spare stuff so you’ll always have things at mine.”
Chapter 42
Kara
I’mpinnedtothewall in Luke’s hallway where he is devouring me with a room spinning, spine melting, back arching, tippy-toes kiss. We’ve been here since we got in the door, his hands spread across my lower back, my fingers in his hair. I whimper when he skims up my sides to cup my breasts through my shirt, my nipples aching and sensitive to his touch. I want him so much, I want him uninhibited, I want him now.
“I’ve been dreaming about kissing you here.” He groans, pressing his mouth just below my earlobe.
“And here.” Another where my jaw meets my neck.
“And here.” A lick at the hollow of my throat. I could live for weeks on any single one of these kisses.
“I want our first time together to be—”
