Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I laugh harder. “You’re one of a kind, Gunnar.”
“I know,” he says, the cocky, beautiful bastard. Then he drops the swagger. “But seriously, I fucking love all that. I’m glad you found this place. And I’m glad you walk the walk and talk the talk.”
“Thank you,” I say, probably more pleased than I should be that my reasoning matters to him.
Gunnar raises a one-more-point finger. “But I admit I pictured you in more of an East Coast, Yale club type of place.”
“Like a university library? All rich wood? Dark oak? High-backed leather chairs?”
“Exactly. I thought that’s where you were taking me.”
“So I surprised you?” This pleases me a lot too.
“You sure did. But that’s your MO, isn’t it, Rafe?” He locks gazes with me. “You like to surprise me.”
“Ah, but that’s because you like surprises,” I say with certainty. “You like it when you don’t know what’s coming next.”
With a wicked glint in his eyes, Gunnar leans a little closer, covers my hand with his under the table, then sets my palm on his cock. “I’d like to be coming next.”
I run my palm along the ridge of his erection. He lets out a harsh gasp, and I push harder, gripping his length through his jeans. “I think I can make that happen.”
“Good,” he says. “You better.”
Ah, but that’s not how this works. I’ll be the one to decide. I give his cock a nice squeeze. “I think you’ll be quite surprised with how soon I intend to make your dirty wish to come—come true.”
19
I WON’T BEG UNLESS WE’RE IN BED
Rafe
After the wicked magic Gunnar performed on my cock last night, he not only deserves a return favor, it will be my pleasure to give him one.
But I haven’t decided how I plan to make him moan for me. How to drive him wild. These decisions take time, and are best made after a drink and a meal.
I reach for the paper menu on the table, then hand it to him. “First things first. I promised I’d feed you.”
“You sure did. So, what’s good here?” he asks, perusing the offerings. “And dude, don’t tell me everything is good, the way people do when they’re obsessed with a place.”
This man does love to knock me down a peg. “I believe I mentioned the steak is fantastic. But so is the sashimi and the salmon. You can’t go wrong.”
He sets the menu down with a decisive snap. “They all have your seal of approval?”
“My personal guarantee,” I say.
“All right, babes. Don’t lead me astray,” he says.
“I would never,” I say, meeting his eyes.
“Good,” he says, vulnerable for a moment, and I know he gets it.
My guard relaxes a bit, and I smile slightly as I enjoy the view of him. His broad frame, his strong jaw, his deep blue eyes. The way he’s not afraid to look at me, to challenge me, to stand his ground with me.
But before I get too caught up in everything Gunnar, I remind myself that I don’t do relationships. That they only lead to pain.
The server appears with our drinks and asks for our dinner orders. I choose the salmon, and Gunnar opts for the steak, after all.
When we’re alone again, I reach for my scotch, and he takes his bourbon, tipping his tumbler toward mine. “To inclusive clubs and honesty.”
I’ll drink to that. “To fuckable lips and very determined men,” I add.
He growls under his breath, a feral sound. “Are you determined to keep me on edge all night?”
I lean back in the booth, savoring his reaction. “Are you saying I’m edging you with my words?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he says, then knocks back some of his liquor.
A crackle of electricity runs through me. “Perhaps I’ll keep edging you,” I say.
“Damn you, Rafe,” he mutters.
I affect a smile. “Did you mean thank you, Rafe?”
“I guess we’ll see if I thank you later,” he answers, then takes another swallow of his drink.
I chuckle. We’ve moved past the uncertainty of last night, and I want to reward his faith in me—especially when he hardly knows me and I hardly know him. If we keep up this affair, I’d like to learn more. Not enough to become close. Just enough to suit me.
I lift my scotch, swirl it, then ask, “How does it feel to hit a home run?”
Gunnar smiles, a boyish sort of grin. “There’s nothing better in the whole world.”
“Describe it for me. How does it feel when you’re on the diamond, running the bases?”
He lights up, eyes gleaming, lips curving. “It feels electric. I feel extra alive, like everything in me is vibrating. It’s an absolute thrill.”
“Like a roller coaster?” I ask, leaning closer. In the dining booth, we’re in our own world.
“Kind of. You like roller coasters, Rafe?”
“The more daring the better,” I say.
“I’ll put that in my Rafe file too,” he says, tapping his temple again.