The Cora Carmack New Adult Boxed Set

IT WAS POSSIBLE that I might not make it to the sex. With the way he was mapping out my body with his lips—I was going to spontaneously combust before we ever got that far.
His fingers trailed up my thighs and stroked the skin of my hip just below the waistband of my panties. Something in my brain detonated, and panic filled me.
I was going to be so terrible at this . . . the worst he’d ever had probably. And then he’d never want to see me again (and I really wanted to see him again). I’d probably be traumatized and never want to have sex again, which meant every relationship for the rest of my life would fail, and I would end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.
I didn’t want to end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.

His fingers trailed up my thighs and stroked the skin of my hip just below the waistband of my panties. Something in my brain detonated, and panic filled me.
I was going to be so terrible at this . . . the worst he’d ever had probably. And then he’d never want to see me again (and I really wanted to see him again

“You don’t hear me complaining.”
I raised and eyebrow, and said, “Forget about it. You will never see me in that skirt.”
“Never? Is that a challenge, love?”
“It’s a promise.”
He skirted the corner of my bed to join me in the space between my bed and the wall. “I’d feel very comfortable helping you break that promise

Garrick broke the kiss, and exhaled shakily against my lips. The brilliant blue I’d seen in his eyes earlier was overtaken almost completely by his black pupils. He placed a hand on my jaw; his thumb pulled at my bottom lip. For several long seconds, he just studied me

At my movement, his lips pressed a little bit harder against mine. His tongue pushed a little bit deeper. I slid both hands up, feeling the hard curves of his body beneath the fabric of his shirt. When my exploration reached his chest, his hand tugged my hip forward, so that my stomach was pressed against him.
I could feel the way he wanted me, and a trickle of anxiety started at my spine. Then his kiss turned harder and faster, and I raced to follow his lead, ignoring my nerves.
I left one hand on his chest, and wrapped the other around his neck, and pulled myself up farther on my tiptoes, so that my hips lined up with his

All I cared about was the fact that he was sitting so close to me, and was driving me crazy. His hand was still leisurely stroking my ankle, and if he didn’t kiss me again soon I was going to combust. “Look at me, I can’t even keep my hands off you now.”
I swallowed, but my mouth suddenly felt like I’d swallowed a sandbox.
He pulled himself up on his knees, and his hand trailed from my ankle up the outside of my uninjured calf. His hips were a few inches away from my knees as I sat there dumbfounded on the toilet.
“Tell me I’m not crazy,” He said.
I couldn’t do that. I was nowhere near sane enough at the moment to advise anyone else on rational behavior.
“Tell me I can kiss you.”
That . . . that I could do.
“You can kiss—“
I didn’t even finish the sentence before his lips were on mine, and my burn was forgotten completely

Are you waiting for an invitation?” I asked, eyeing him standing carefully outside my door. “Is this the part where you tell me you’re a vampire?”
He chuckled. “No, I promise the paleness is only because I’m British.”
“Then what are you waiting for? What happened to the guy who made me sit to find out his name and made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want me going back to my friend?” What happened to the guy who was bold in ways I could only pretend to be?
He took one step, so that he stood in the doorframe, and leaned against the jamb. “That guy is trying to be a gentleman, because as much as he wanted you to come back to his place and as much as he wants to kiss you—you’re hurt, and I’m afraid you don’t actually want me here.”
“You mean he’s afraid.”
“Hmm?”
“You were speaking in the third person, and then switched to first . . .” And I was rambling.

I nodded, because his stare currently had my blood boiling. Never in my life had I felt so completely turned on by someone who was not even touching me. Sex rolled off the man in waves, and I was surprised to find how interested I was in learning how to swim

He didn’t say anything for a long beat, but then his mouth split in a grin revealing, what do you know, perfect teeth!
“It’s not a ploy, but if it were, it seems to me that I’m having great luck right here.”
An accent. HE HAS A BRITISH ACCENT. Dear God, I’m dying

He looked up from his reading, and suddenly I found it hard to swallow. He was easily the most attractive guy I’d seen tonight—blond hair falling into crystal blue eyes, just enough scruff on his jaw to give him a masculine look without making him too hairy, and a face that could have made angels sing. It wasn’t making me sing. It was making me gawk. Why did I stop? Why did I always have to make an idiot of myself