Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
I’m still staring at chandelier, when I bump into a wall. No, not a wall… a hard, warm, body of muscle. Stiffening, I take a step back, and standing in front of me is a shirtless Ethan, wearing only a pair of black lounge pants that hang from his hips, revealing six-pack abs.
Oh my goodness! His body is something straight out of a romance novel. My mouth falls open as I take him in, my gaze completely drawn to his perfect muscular body. Lean and hard. He’s sculpted, beautifully rugged, dark, and dangerously handsome. Trailing my gaze down his body, I spot a tattoo on his rib cage against his perfectly tanned skin.
Never Forget.
Hmm, I wonder what it is he never wants to forget.
Ethan
After working out in my dad’s gym, I grabbed a shower then came down to grab a drink before bed. I’m walking through the dining room, downing a bottle of water, when I see Nevaeh heading straight for me. Her head is tilted up toward the chandelier, looking sexy as fuck in my white T-shirt.
Stopping in place, I take a second to appreciate the woman in front of me. She truly has no idea how gorgeous she is. Take right now for instance. She’s wearing my shirt sans bra. Her perky tits are pushing through it, exposing her pert, hardened nipples. The bottom of my shirt stops several inches above her knees, showing off her creamy thighs and legs. I saw it in the way she acted at the club. Nervous and insecure, not understanding that the woman on her ex’s arm was nowhere near as gorgeous as she is. Some women will play coy. Act like they don’t know how hot they are, when they really do know. But Nevaeh, she’s not playing coy. She’s too naïve. Too innocent. She really has no idea she is a walking, talking, breathing, fucking temptation. And fuck if that doesn’t make her that much sexier.
Not realizing I’m standing here, checking her out, she walks straight into me. At first she looks shocked, but then she notices I’m shirtless and gets distracted, her wide eyes slowly roaming down my body like I’m a piece of art on display. This goes on for a good thirty seconds before I decide to fuck with her.
“Like what you see?” I give her a knowing smirk, and her eyes widen, her face turning an adorable shade of pink. Jesus fuck. I need to get a grip. She’s not adorable. She’s a pain in my ass.
She looks me over one more time then glances down at herself, probably wondering if she’s decent enough to be standing in front of me. This woman’s innocence is almost comical, and the way she fruitlessly tugs at my shirt, wishing it to grow, is priceless.
Her doe eyes meet mine, and that’s when I notice under her eyes are puffy, and her cheeks are splotchy and pink.
“You’ve been crying.”
She sniffles and nods. “My brother and I were really close.”
I nod back, unsure of what the hell to say in response to that.
After we stand here for a good minute, neither of us saying a word, I break the silence. “Are you down here for a reason?”
“I’m hungry,” she says, and I immediately regret not feeding her. I have no idea how long Logan’s had her, and I’d bet he didn’t bother to give her anything to eat. I have no clue what’s even here, but I’m sure there are cans of something she can eat, so she’s not hungry.
Grabbing her hand, I guide her through the swinging door and into the kitchen, pointing for her to have a seat on the stool against the island. She sits, and my shirt rides up her thighs, causing my dick to swell in my pants.
“Did my boxers not fit you?” I ask, annoyed because I’m completely in over my head with this woman. At this point, I don’t know which way is up.
She nods then stands, lifting my white shirt to show me my boxers. Fucking hell.
“They do. I just had to roll them up a few times. Thank you.”
My eyes dart down, catching a glimpse of her flat stomach, and my dick twitches in appreciation. Oh, hell no. This is not happening. I need to get away from this woman. How could someone so godly be such a fucking sin? “There should be something in the pantry you can make. I’ll get some food tomorrow,” I growl out, mad at myself for not being able to control my thoughts—or my dick—around her.
I need to get my shit together. This woman is off-limits, and even if she wasn’t, she isn’t my type. She’s the forever type of girl, the one you marry and have a dozen babies with, and I’m nothing more than a for-now type of guy. I did that forever bullshit once, and I learned my lesson the hard way.