Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Finally, my hair is wet enough to wash. Adam returns halfway through the process. Watches as I comb conditioner through my hair, soap my skin, shave, rinse.
Then he holds out something for me.
A bright pink vibrator.
"You bought it for me?" I ask.
He nods.
"It doesn't bother you?"
"Why would it bother me?"
"My ex-boyfriend."
"The photographer?"
"Yeah, the one who wouldn't pose for me. He got upset when I mentioned toys."
"What about them?" he asks.
"He saw them as a threat, I think. If a vibrator could make me come, what was he there for?" I can't help but laugh. "I sound like Remy."
"What would he say?"
"If a man isn't better than a toy, kick him to the curb."
"Where do I rate?"
My cheeks flush. "I haven't tried the toy."
"But you have your own?"
I nod. "And hands too."
"I've seen."
My blush deepens.
"Which do you like better?"
"You."
He half-smiles. "Your hands or the toy?"
"My hands."
"Why?"
"More precise. More intimate."
"Intimate with yourself?"
"Of course," I say. "It wasn't always easy for me. I haven't always felt at home with my body." Even now, it's a struggle.
His eyes rake over me slowly. "Show me."
"I am."
"No." He takes a step toward me. "With your hands."
"Last night—"
"If you want me to fuck you again, show me."
"Please—"
"Now."
I barely manage to nod. I turn to him, rest my back against the wall, spread my legs, slip my hand past my bellybutton.
It's different in the shower. More and less friction at once. And with Adam watching me, I'm already wound so fucking tight.
I try to look him in the eye as I draw circles on my clit.
A little softer.
Then harder.
There. I find the right pressure.
He watches intently as I bring myself to the edge.
Almost.
Almost.
My eyes flutter closed.
The tension in my sex winds to a fever pitch, then everything unravels. My world goes white. The beautiful, soft, blinding light of bliss.
His low, deep groan.
The warm water.
The heat of his gaze.
His eyes meet mine. "Beautiful."
My entire body flushes. "Will you fuck me after lunch? Please."
"Yes. But not a second sooner."
How the hell am I supposed to entertain my brother with that promise in my head?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Adam
"Remy is a lot, but he always means well." Danielle presses her lips together. "He'll probably ask about your dick. No. He will. It's his favorite topic." She looks at the restaurant, a French-inspired bistro on the first floor of an office building.
It's exactly the kind of place I imagine Danielle enjoying. White furniture, teal walls, potted plants as centerpieces.
And it's empty.
"I reserved the restaurant," I say.
She looks up at me with a curious expression. She wants to ask why, but she's too polite to say it. Or she's scared of my reaction.
"I appreciate privacy," I say.
She nods, accepting the answer. "Privacy is good." She looks around the space again. "Remy doesn't know about my photography. Not the details. So don't mention the whole naked self-portrait thing."
"Oh my god, that coat!" A cheerful voice cuts through the air.
Danielle lights up as she turns to her brother. She waves and rushes to meet him.
He pulls her into a tight hug. Whispers something in her ear.
She laughs. "You're disturbed."
"I take that as a compliment." He releases her. "Seriously, Danny, you look great. Did you really put this together yourself?"
"Hey!" She smooths the eggplant wool of her coat. "Rudeness will not earn you details."
"There's something that will earn me details?"
She flips him off.
"Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?" he asks.
"Inside," she says. "It's freezing."
He nods it is then leans in to whisper something in her ear.
She blushes and follows him inside.
The restaurant is warm, quiet, small.
Before the accident, this place would have been too much for me on a busy afternoon.
Now, even with the place empty, I can barely handle the attention.
"So, uh, we have any seat?" Remy asks.
"Yes. Adam reserved the place for the afternoon," she says. "Because he knew you'd make enough inappropriate comments you'd get us kicked out otherwise."
"When has that ever happened?" he asks.
"IHOP."
"Well, yeah, it was an IHOP. I can't be responsible for repressed attitudes of people who live outside the city." He looks at me. "No offense."
"You can't say something rude, then say no offense like they cancel out," Danielle says. "I will leave."
"You will not," he says.
She tries to fight a smile, but she can't. She adores him. It's all over her face.
She knows he's a handful and she loves him for it.
It does something to me, seeing this side of her. Warms me in places that are usually cold.
Even with the memory of Bash threatening to derail me.
Honestly, Adam, why are you wasting time meeting family? You fucked her for the first time last night. Get back in there.
Enough with the excuses.
She wanted to fuck you in the shower.
And you stand outside the glass door like an asshole?
Really.
I'm disappointed.
You know better than to leave a woman wanting.
He never knew me in this state.