Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Grey swore. “Inside. Now.”
He helped her to her feet. She grabbed the glasses, and he picked up the champagne, but the skies had already opened. Before they could make their way below deck, the first droplet was followed by torrential sheets of rain.
Chapter Three
The sky released unexpected swells of water in seconds. By the time Grey and Avery had made it beneath the overhang and he had led her to the staterooms below, they were drenched.
“Damn. It couldn’t have started as light drops?” he asked.
Avery laughed, the sound not helping the hard-on beneath his jeans.
The room had two beds on either side, both of good size for a yacht, and a small dressing area. He opened the closet, grabbed clothes, and tossed two T-shirts onto the bed.
“Pick one,” he said, pointing to his old band tees.
“You have clothes on board?” she asked.
He nodded. “Lola insisted I keep things here for emergencies.” He looked back in and pulled out a pair of shorts for himself.
“She’s a good friend?” Avery asked.
“She is. We met in LA not long after I arrived.” He glanced over his shoulder to find Avery had taken off her wet dress. Her bare back with creamy white skin tempted him to touch. Lick. Devour.
He grabbed the other shirt and yanked it over his head, then stripped out of his jeans, trying like hell to ignore the fact that she was undressed inches away. He clenched his jaw and pulled on the shorts, which did nothing to hide his erection.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
“Anything.” He spun back to find her seated on one of the beds.
Her damp hair fell over her shoulders, her legs crossed beneath her. But it was his shirt covering her body that had him enthralled. He liked her in his clothing, as caveman as that sounded. He liked thinking of her as his.
“You and Lola.” Avery picked at a thread on the bedspread. “Have you . . . I mean, did you and Lola ever—”
He paused, then decided he might as well be completely honest. “I never slept with her.”
“But you wanted to? Because she’s gorgeous. I mean, she was voted sexiest woman alive and all. What guy wouldn’t want her?” Avery’s cheeks flamed as she rushed out the words. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
“Actually it’s very much your business.” He strode over to her, bracing his hands on either side of her body, forcing her to lie down on the mattress.
The scent of vanilla and rain permeated his senses, nearly knocking him on his ass as desire rushed through him. He wanted nothing more than to toss her on the bed, strip off her clothes, and bury his cock deep in her wet, willing pussy. That wouldn’t happen if she thought he had a thing for Lola. He never had.
Avery stared up at him, eyes wide, waiting for his next move. He could get lost in those eyes. Write songs about the color and how the hue darkened when she was aroused. Damp. Wet for him.
He cleared his throat. “Let’s get something clear. I never wanted to sleep with Lola. She had a crush on me, but one kiss cured that. For me, it was like kissing my sister, and for her, she realized her feelings for me were more about comfort and family than sex. So no, Lola doesn’t do it for me.”
“Oh.” Avery’s tongue darted out, slicking over her sweet lips.
“You, on the other hand, do. You make me fucking hard every time I lay eyes on you.” But he couldn’t act on those desires and keep her in his life.
He’d have to win her over slowly. Gain back her trust.
This was too much too soon. He knew it. He drew on all his inner strength, kissed her hard, and pulled her back up until she sat on the bed.
Then he walked to the other side of the small room. “When the rain lightens, we can make a run for the car.”
“Sounds good.”
“More champagne in the meantime?” he asked, turning back toward her.
She lifted her shoulder, and even that little gesture turned him on.
“No thanks. I think I’m good.”
She pushed herself back against the pillows, giving him a flash of pink lace between her thighs. He swallowed a groan and discreetly adjusted himself before settling next to her.
“So tell me more about you and your career. What was LA like?” she asked him.
He rested his head back against the pillows, but the small bed kept them in close proximity. He needed this subject change as a distraction.
He thought back to the early days in California. “LA was a crazy scene. I loved it at first. We played gigs and bars for very little money, hoping for exposure. Eventually Simon, our manager, spotted us, and the insanity started.”
She rolled to her side and glanced up at him, clearly interested in his past. “The groupies and women?”