Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Not really. As far as I’m concerned, food is workout fuel. Keeping the menu simple means I don’t have to think about it.”
“So, you never eat for pleasure?”
I shake my head. “Not unless you count an obligatory slice of birthday cake every year.”
“I don’t.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine approaching food that way. To me, savoring a meal is just as important as eating healthy. You can’t quantify the benefits the same way you add up calories, but health isn’t just about fitness. It’s about happiness, too.”
“You don’t think I can be happy eating chicken breast and kale salad for dinner every night?”
“I think you can be happy in spite of all that. But answer me honestly, when was the last time you looked forward to sitting down to dinner?”
I turn onto her street, more than a little in awe of Skyler’s passion for her field of study. I’m tempted to miss the next turn into her complex just to give us an excuse to keep driving and talking.
“Can’t say I remember,” I tell her honestly. She frowns in my peripheral vision. “What?”
“That’s so sad, Ben.”
I snicker.
“No need to feel sorry for me, sweetheart. I’ll be fine with my baked chicken and protein shakes. ...Wait a sec,” I say, as a realization floats to the front of my mind. “Nutrition sciences. I’m pretty sure that’s my niece’s major. Maybe you’ve met her in one of your classes, Crystal Faber?”
Skyler’s posture stiffens. She doesn’t respond right away.
“Yeah, I’ve met Crystal,” she says, then points to a driveway coming up on the left. “Turn in here.”
I make the turn into the parking lot and wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. She directs me to a line of empty spaces in front of a side door leading into a five-story apartment building.
She pulls her keys from her bag, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns toward me.
“Thanks again for the ride. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” I say, my voice like gravel. She’s so fucking close, I can see the rain droplets that have yet to dry on her forehead.
My head swims with the scent of her light, sweet perfume, and I inhale deeply. I’m not thinking when I reach up to slide a damp curl of her hair from her face. The gesture is intimate, not something a boss should ever think to do for their employee. But I can’t help myself, not when her eyes are practically begging me to touch her.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say.
Her throat shifts as she gulps.
“About what?”
“Maybe I could use more pleasure in my life.”
She smooths her lips together, reminding me how badly I want to kiss her. Her eyelids flutter closed as I glide my knuckle down her cheek. Her skin glows in the light from the dashboard, impossibly soft and supple.
I’m not someone who gets cravings. Yet, here I am, craving her like she’s a scoop of butter-pecan ice cream on a hot summer’s day.
But I don’t give into cravings.
I pull away.
“You should go inside,” I say stiffly.
“Oh... Right...” She crushes her bag to her chest, clearly hurt by my rejection. “Goodnight, Ben.”
Without giving me a chance to reply, she jumps out of the truck and races through the rain to the complex door. I watch her fumble with her keys. As soon as she makes it through the main door, I look at my hand, the one I brushed her face with. I shouldn’t have touched her. But, God, what I wouldn’t give to feel her skin again.
I press my fingers to my mouth, trying to transfer the feeling of her soft cheek to my lips. My imagination takes off running. I imagine how her skin would feel against my lips as I kissed her cheek, her neck, her chest. I would push up her sports bra and worship her breasts before moving down her stomach, caressing every part of her with my mouth until I reached her waistband. Then I would slowly peel those down to—
I don’t realize I’m rubbing myself until my cock throbs beneath my hand. But I can’t stop. I’m too caught up in the vivid fantasy of Skyler’s body. I lean back and let myself get lost in my thoughts, feeling my shoulders relax and my arousal continue to spike.
A light knock on my car window jolts me back to reality. My pulse sprints.
Skyler stands beside my car holding an umbrella to shield herself from the rain. Thankfully, she’s too short to see into the truck, so she can’t know that I was just touching myself to the memory of her skin.
I lower the window. “What is it, Skyler?”
“I forgot to give this back to you,” she says, handing me my jacket. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”
The outside of the jacket is damp but the interior is still warm from laying against her body. I know it smells like her. I want to press the fabric to my face, but that’ll have to wait until she’s not looking right at me.