Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
He craves my body. I crave his heart.
His addiction feeds mine.
My cravings ignite his.
Together, we're dangerous.
Destructive.
Obsessive.
Wild.
This is temptation...
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
You don’t have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.
- Diana Vreeland
“Angus! You little shit!” I hobble across the kitchen, my still-damp hair plastered to the sides of my face and my tights knotted around my ankles. “Go away!” I swipe at my cat and he leaps from the counter.
I look at the now half-empty tin of tuna on the side. How he managed to get the lid off, I’ll never know. It was only cracked open a little after I drained the juice.
“Seriously? I go to get dressed and you pilfer my dinner? What kind of cat are you?”
Angus looks at me, unaffected, and licks his paw. I stare at him in annoyance for a long moment before giving into the inevitable and tipping the remaining fish into his food bowl. He sticks his tail in the air triumphantly as he meanders across the room to it.
“Stupid animal,” I mutter, reaching down and tugging up my tights.
Rrrrrip.
“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!” I bend over and examine the rip snaking up my right calf. With a heavy sigh, I pull the tights off and throw them in the trash. The lid clangs down loudly, and Angus looks away from his food to shoot me a disdainful look.
I point at him. “This is all your fault, you know. I caught you stealing my tuna so had to run out here before I could put them on. Don’t you know tonight is the night I could end up in Jackson’s bed, hmm? And look at these.” I stretch my leg out in front of him. “They’re whiter than white.”
My cat returns to his food. I drop my leg and head back into my room. Well, one good thing has come from this—if I do end up going home with Jackson tonight, it’s one less obstacle in the way.
I run my hands up my legs, checking to see if I missed any spots when I shaved earlier. No stray hairs, thank God.
I keep half an eye on my grumpy cat as I grab the hairdryer and dry my hair. I wouldn’t put it past him to do anything else… like open a cupboard to find more tuna. The damn animal has two thumbs, I’m fucking sure of it. The shit he can do is not normal.
By the time my hair is falling around my shoulders, dry, the cat in question is sitting at my kitchen table staring at me. I do my best to ignore him as I apply my makeup and get dressed in something more covering than my underwear.
My phone buzzes.
There are a million stores in this city and I still haven’t found a rehearsal dinner dress. What’s wrong with me?
I grin at my best friend’s text message. That’s what you get for choosing your wedding dress in Paris without me.
Whatever. We’re looking for your dress soon. Behave tonight.
My smile drops. Shopping with Bridezilla? Oh, crap. Although, I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt and admit Aaron is the one who picked the earlier date. Dayton only went along with it because he left all the major choices up to her… Which means he’ll be finding himself wearing pink.
All is fair in love and war, I suppose.
I drop my phone into my purse knowing the last words of her message will be disregarded. Given that Jackson, my ex-manager, is my number one man crush for, like, ever, behaving is the last thing on my mind tonight.
Today is his birthday, and I plan to help him finish his day with a bang. Preferably a hot and sweaty one that finishes up with an orgasm.
Really, it’s not much to ask for.
“You,” I pause at the door and point at Angus, “Stay out of trouble. I don’t want to come back and find you humping a lady cat again. Are we clear?”
He mews pathetically and turns away from me. I roll my eyes and head downstairs to my waiting cab. I’m already running a bit late thanks to the tuna fiasco—okay, so I was running late before that happened, but it’s so much easier to blame my cat.
Downtown Seattle is thriving as we drive in. The window of the cab is cracked open a little and I can hear the happy shouts and laughs of groups of people as we come to a stop. We’re stuck in some traffic, and I tap my foot agitatedly.
I lean between the seats and try to get a glimpse at how bad it is. “Do you know how long we’ll be stuck here?” I ask the driver.
He shakes his head. “No, darlin’, sorry,” he rasps in a heavy smoker’s voice. “There was a crash just outside the Southfall earlier today. Last I heard the cops were still sniffing around there.”
“Great.” I blow out a long breath. “Listen, I’m running late. Do you mind if I get out here?”