Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Brayden releases my lip before backing away enough to stare down at his full-fledged erection. A sly smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Can I interest you in a second round?”
My gaze drops to his gorgeous length. The conversation we’d been engaged in falls to the wayside as more urgent matters take precedence. “I’d really hate to see a perfectly good boner go to waste.”
He flashes me a knowing grin. “You’re my kind of girl, Sydney.”
And then he’s sliding inside me and filling me to the brim. He doesn’t fuck me hard and fast. He takes it slow, driving me over the edge one thrust at a time.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sydney
I glance at my phone as a text from Brayden pops up on the screen. He’s here and waiting in the parking lot. My belly hollows out as a burst of nerves explodes inside me. There’s no longer a way to stop the wheels that have been set in motion. For better or worse, this is happening.
I tried several times to talk him out of attending this party and he was having none of it. The more I broached the subject, the more adamant he became in his stance. The guy is seriously stubborn. Doesn’t he understand that I’m trying to save him from an afternoon of hardcore interrogation?
If we were the real deal, I could understand his desire to go through with this, but we’re not. So why put himself through the wringer?
I grab my small, black purse off the desk and walk into the living room. Demi glances up from where she’s sitting on the couch.
“Wow, you look nice!” Her lips quirk. “Not that you don’t always.”
I roll my eyes. I’m wearing a pale pink skirt that hits mid-thigh and a loosely knit, white sweater that I’ve paired with ankle boots. My hair is long and loose around my shoulders. I spend so much time with it pulled up into a ponytail or messy bun that it feels good to leave it down every once in a while.
“Big day! Introducing Brayden to the fam, huh? That’s a huge step.”
More like a nightmare. I keep telling myself that we only have to stay for an hour or two and then we can take off. I’m sure Brayden will be traumatized on the drive home. He’ll be in desperate need of therapy afterward.
“Yeah,” I force myself to say, “let’s hope they don’t eat him alive.” Then again, maybe that would be for the best. I need to nip this faux relationship in the bud before it can spiral any further out of control.
She waves a hand. “Please, if anyone can hold their own with your family, it would be Brayden. He’ll have them eating out of the palm of his hand within thirty minutes. Maybe less.”
Hmmm. Demi might be right about that. The guy can be a real charmer when he turns up the wattage. Although, I don’t think my brother, Court, was too impressed. I’m sure the first thing he did after meeting Brayden was call my oldest brother, Ryan, to fill him in on all the gory details. When I phoned my mom a few hours later, she’d already been brought up to speed on the situation and was overjoyed that I was bringing Brayden home to meet them. People like to talk about women being the biggest gossips, but they’re way off target. Some of these guys are like old ladies standing around in a church parking lot, trading stories like baseball cards.
“All right,” I finally say, “I should go.” As I walk to the front door, it feels like I’m marching to a slow, tortuous death.
“Have fun!” Demi calls out, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
There’s no chance of that happening.
As I take the stairwell to the lobby, I run into Ryder, a Western Wildcats hockey player I’ve known since freshman year.
“Hey, Syd,” he says, eyeing me up and down. “Must have a hot date. You look amazing.”
“Thanks. No date. Just a family party.”
He holds open the door. As soon as I exit into the spacious entryway, he pulls up alongside me, asking questions about how soccer is going. I tell him about tying Florida State on Thursday and how the game went into overtime. I’m still kicking myself for giving number sixteen a little too much breathing room. The sneaky little bitch actually made it past me and scored.
Once.
Just once.
We push out into the bright sunshine. The day looks like it will be a nice one for Mom. I’m sure everyone will be outside, enjoying one of the last seasonable afternoons before the weather turns cold.
As Ryder and I say our goodbyes, I spot Brayden’s shiny, black Ford F-150 parked a couple of rows over. Even though I’m unable to see him behind the tinted glass, I feel his attention locked on me as if it’s a physical caress. My skin pebbles as a horde of butterflies wing their way to life inside the confines of my belly.