Everyone has their favorite place to be. Me? I’m definitely a small town kind of girl. Cities make me anxious, but small towns, places where I feel like I could know everyone around, I love that.
It’s a constant battle between Cynthia and Henry over which is better, small town or big city. It seems both have perks!
Excerpt from Everything She Never Wanted
“See,” Henry said with a nudge, “small town life isn’t all bad.”
Cynthia chuckled. “No. It’s definitely not all bad.”
Her eyes locked on his and all humor evaporated between them. Or maybe it burned off. Her money was on the second one. His eyes darkened and dropped to her lips. Her heart skipped, then leaped and raced on without the rest of her. He moved closer the same time she did and they came together in a crash of limbs and tongues and lips.
She was back on the edge of the counter in a second. His tongue in her mouth, his cock hard between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter so she could feel every inch of him.
Henry’s tongue swept over hers in a long, slow slide. She needed to feel him, to touch his skin. A tug at the edge of his shirt exposed warm skin to her fingertips. She climbed his body, taking her time as she explored him. He continued to drive her insane with his tongue and his cock, but she was fairly certain there were a few stutters in there that she could take credit for. Like when she ran her nails down his chest. And when she swiped her thumb over his taut nipple. Or when she moaned.
Okay, maybe that last one was more him than her, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting her hands on Henry.
He leaned back and stripped his shirt off, tossing it toward the couch. His lips were back on hers before his shirt hit the floor. His hands cupped her hips and pulled her against him as he thrust into her again. She cried out, his erection hitting her in the perfect spot. She looked at him, eyes dark and full of lust, muscles tense, light brown hair accenting his body and making her want him even more.
One hand went to the hem of her sweater and lifted it, raising goosebumps on her exposed flesh. His palm covered the spot, warming her again. He moved upward, drawing out more goosebumps, until his palm cupped her breast.
They both groaned.
“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Jesus, I’ve dreamed about what your skin would feel like. Taste like.”
Cynthia grinned. “This isn’t a dream.”
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