Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
It screams of sex. Maybe because the red is bright and attention getting (even if my shade is closer to brick than fire engine).
Maybe because, for the last hundred or so years, movies and TV have associated red with sex. Especially red lips.
It works. I look good.
But it's not enough. I need to look fucking amazing.
I return to my closet. It's no longer Buffalo Exchange and H&M. It's nice, expensive, fancy.
Okay, and a little Buffalo Exchange and H&M.
And this.
The perfect dress.
A violet bodycon with a plunging neckline.
I change. Do away with my bra. Add a gold necklace.
One sure to drive Cam out of his fucking mind.
Twenty minutes and one cup of very sweet, very creamy coffee later, I walk into the restaurant
It's a perfect place for Ty. One big, open room with high ceilings and quiet tables.
The bar is on one side, complete with a cute hipster bartender (suspenders, tattoos, blond hair in a fauxhawk).
If Cam wasn't here, this guy would draw my attention.
As it is…
I cross the room and step onto the massive wraparound balcony.
It's cooler tonight. Cool enough I need the jacket I left home.
Then I turn the corner, and see Cam, and I don't feel the cold anymore.
God, he's so handsome. Somehow, more handsome than he was last week.
There's nothing visibly different about his appearance. He has the same dark eyes, short hair, bright smile.
He's wearing a new tie—a royal blue to match the wedding colors—and a different suit. This one is a little darker. Almost black.
His eyes catch mine. Fill with intent.
Desire spreads over his expression. He gives me a quick once-over. Catches himself. Stops.
"Sienna." He offers his hand. "You're just in time."
I take five steps toward him. Shake. "In time for what?"
He motions to the booth behind him. A semi-private space, with sheer curtains and long bench seats.
Eve and Ian are already sitting inside the booth, on one of the three benches surrounding a large, square table.
Tiny string lights illuminate the space. They're twinkling stars against the soft blue sky.
"In time for Cam to explain why he picked a space private enough for an orgy." Ian stands. Moves past his cousin. "You look gorgeous, Sienna."
"Thanks." I hug him hello. Wait for his girlfriend, Eve.
She stands. Smooths her short black dress. Tries to slip past her boyfriend. "Excuse me."
"Excuse you." He makes a show of holding her body against his as she passes.
She shoots him a you're bad and I don't want you to be good look and turns to me. "Sienna. Hey." She embraces me with a warm hug. "You do look great. But I was going to start with your abilities, not your looks."
"It's hard to focus on anything besides her beauty, isn't it?" Cam teases.
Eve laughs. "It is. But I'll try." She releases me. "How's soccer? Cam was telling me you're one of the star players."
"We're a division three team. We're not that competitive," I say.
"Us too," she says. "I'm not even sure if we have a football team."
"Of course, you have a football team," Cam says. "You played her team last week."
"American football," Eve says.
"You like football?" I ask.
"Who wouldn't like football?" Ian continues. "It's the world's sport."
"Yes, yes, we know it's called football everywhere else." She laughs. "Do you need to do this routine every time we bring up soccer?"
"I think he does. It's some British guy requirement." I take a deep breath. Exhale slowly.
I'm talking to Eve and it's almost nice. Maybe I'm a little jealous of her rapport with my sister. And she looks amazing with her teal hair in a perfect straight line, her makeup dark and dramatic, her dress somehow punk rock and super sexy at once.
She has an amazing figure too. All hips and ass.
But I…
Whatever.
Ian takes his girlfriend's hand. Leads her back into the booth. "Do you agree, Sienna?"
"That soccer should be called football? And replace American football as the country's sport? Of course, but good luck convincing Americans," I say.
"She's a football player. You don't have to sell her on the sport," Cam says.
"That this is where you invite a woman when you're going to fuck her on the balcony," Ian says.
"I can't say I've ever invited a woman somewhere with the intention of fucking her," I say.
He chuckles. Sits. Pulls his girlfriend into his lap.
She giggles and whispers something dirty in his ear.
He whispers back.
She blushes.
Cam shoots me one of those god, they're so annoying looks.
They are. Kind of. They're adorable too. Somehow cuter than my sister and Ty. How is that even possible?
They finish flirting. Turn their attention back to us.
"A man?" Ian asks.
Cam shoots him a don't look.
He chuckles. Returns an equally knowing look.
"I have an apartment," I say. "Why do I need a balcony?"
"Exhibitionism," he says.
"Jesus, Ian." Cam clears his throat. "We don't need to hear about your sex life."
"Since when?" he asks.