Read Online The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1) by Allyson Lindt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Allyson Lindt
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soul.
“Christ, you’re gorgeous.” He rested a hand at the base of her neck, and his thumb caressed her cheek. “Beautiful, and you know how to handle a joystick.”
The direct compliment tied her thoughts in knots, and she fumbled for a response. “It makes a difference when I’ve got the right partner.”
“Told you we’d play well together.” His voice dropped an octave. He dipped his head, and crushed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t a hesitant kiss. He plunged in with a hunger and intensity that stole her breath and dragged a whimper from her.
He claimed her lips, nipping and sucking, his tongue diving into her mouth to dance with hers. Her nipples tightened, aching against her bra. A tiny voice whispered this was a bad idea, and she shoved it aside. She dug her fingers into his chest, and traced the definition under his T-shirt. When he tangled his fingers in her hair and yanked, the oxygen stole from her head until she thought she might float away.
The scent of his body wash—clean and sharp—filled her thoughts. He tasted amazing. He moved his free hand to her hip, then shoved the edge of her T-shirt up, dragging the hem over her skin.
She groaned against him. This was incredible. The tiny voice of protest whispered louder. Pushed cruel thoughts into her head. Reminded her she didn’t know anything about him, and she couldn’t cross this line. Fucking voice of reason. She pushed him back. “Stop.”
He pulled back, hands falling away and narrowed eyes locking on hers. His lips were swollen, and his breathing ragged. Did she look the same? Part of her itched to reach up and trail a finger along his chin. Memorize the stubble. Close the distance between them again. She swallowed the urges back, trying to smother them with reason.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head, not sure if she could find the right words to explain herself. She wasn’t even sure she understood her own reasons—how was she supposed to tell him? Every inch of her wanted to finish what they’d started, so why couldn’t she?
He took a deep breath and then another, before scooting back enough to put some space between them. “I won’t ever push you, if you tell me to stop”—each word sounded strained, as if he were forcing it through a filter—“but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one enjoying that. You don’t owe me anything, but an explanation might be nice.” He shifted on the couch, and adjusted his jeans.
More disappointment and embarrassment flooded her when she caught a glimpse of the large bulge outlined on his upper thigh. She dragged the words to the surface. “I don’t date gamers.” Even as the explanation flowed out, she realized how weak it sounded. “Besides, we’re roommates. Not lovers or dating, or anything else. We can’t just screw around; that’ll make things awkward between us.” Like that hadn’t already happened.
He pursed his lips, and raised his eyebrows high enough they almost reached his hairline. “First of all, you think this is going to be less awkward? Second, you’re really going to lump me into a generic category like that?”
He had a point. What she said made no sense. Every bit of her ached to close the distance again. Except the mood in the room had shifted. An icy wall grew between them now. “You asked. That’s my answer.”
He stood, adjusted himself again, and leaned in, mouth near her ear. “Fine. Not until you’re ready. But unless you tell me to back off completely, I’m going to keep trying until you let me in or tell me stop.”
His words warmed her far more than his warm breath on her skin.
“I need to get back to work,” she forced herself to say.
“That didn’t sound like ‘back off’ to me.”
She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “I have a review to write.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Good luck.”
****
Someone knocked on the front door. “’S open,” Ethan called from the
“Christ, you’re gorgeous.” He rested a hand at the base of her neck, and his thumb caressed her cheek. “Beautiful, and you know how to handle a joystick.”
The direct compliment tied her thoughts in knots, and she fumbled for a response. “It makes a difference when I’ve got the right partner.”
“Told you we’d play well together.” His voice dropped an octave. He dipped his head, and crushed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t a hesitant kiss. He plunged in with a hunger and intensity that stole her breath and dragged a whimper from her.
He claimed her lips, nipping and sucking, his tongue diving into her mouth to dance with hers. Her nipples tightened, aching against her bra. A tiny voice whispered this was a bad idea, and she shoved it aside. She dug her fingers into his chest, and traced the definition under his T-shirt. When he tangled his fingers in her hair and yanked, the oxygen stole from her head until she thought she might float away.
The scent of his body wash—clean and sharp—filled her thoughts. He tasted amazing. He moved his free hand to her hip, then shoved the edge of her T-shirt up, dragging the hem over her skin.
She groaned against him. This was incredible. The tiny voice of protest whispered louder. Pushed cruel thoughts into her head. Reminded her she didn’t know anything about him, and she couldn’t cross this line. Fucking voice of reason. She pushed him back. “Stop.”
He pulled back, hands falling away and narrowed eyes locking on hers. His lips were swollen, and his breathing ragged. Did she look the same? Part of her itched to reach up and trail a finger along his chin. Memorize the stubble. Close the distance between them again. She swallowed the urges back, trying to smother them with reason.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head, not sure if she could find the right words to explain herself. She wasn’t even sure she understood her own reasons—how was she supposed to tell him? Every inch of her wanted to finish what they’d started, so why couldn’t she?
He took a deep breath and then another, before scooting back enough to put some space between them. “I won’t ever push you, if you tell me to stop”—each word sounded strained, as if he were forcing it through a filter—“but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one enjoying that. You don’t owe me anything, but an explanation might be nice.” He shifted on the couch, and adjusted his jeans.
More disappointment and embarrassment flooded her when she caught a glimpse of the large bulge outlined on his upper thigh. She dragged the words to the surface. “I don’t date gamers.” Even as the explanation flowed out, she realized how weak it sounded. “Besides, we’re roommates. Not lovers or dating, or anything else. We can’t just screw around; that’ll make things awkward between us.” Like that hadn’t already happened.
He pursed his lips, and raised his eyebrows high enough they almost reached his hairline. “First of all, you think this is going to be less awkward? Second, you’re really going to lump me into a generic category like that?”
He had a point. What she said made no sense. Every bit of her ached to close the distance again. Except the mood in the room had shifted. An icy wall grew between them now. “You asked. That’s my answer.”
He stood, adjusted himself again, and leaned in, mouth near her ear. “Fine. Not until you’re ready. But unless you tell me to back off completely, I’m going to keep trying until you let me in or tell me stop.”
His words warmed her far more than his warm breath on her skin.
“I need to get back to work,” she forced herself to say.
“That didn’t sound like ‘back off’ to me.”
She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “I have a review to write.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Good luck.”
****
Someone knocked on the front door. “’S open,” Ethan called from the
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