Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Then I remembered it wasn’t my business what Matt did or where he went, and I should make it a policy to remember that for what little was left of the weekend.
“I know it wasn’t a very wild bachelor party, since it was for my brother,” I joked.
“Oh, it got wild,” Matt corrected me. “You’ve clearly never played Call of Duty.”
“You’re right. I haven’t.” I leaned against the back of the couch, my hands braced on the top. “It was a geeky computer party, then. No prurient thrills.”
“If you don’t get a sexual thrill out of killing Nazis, are you even alive?” He countered.
Okay, that was a good point.
“Look, if I smell so bad, there’s only one thing for it,” Matt went on.
I arched a brow. “Shower sex?”
It wasn’t a hot and sexy suggestion. It was a hot and sweaty suggestion. The climate in South Carolina was ridiculous and it had done neither of us a favor in the body odor department. If not the shower, I would have certainly recommended the pool.
He was still drunk enough to think making finger guns was a good response.
“I’m giving you a head start,” I warned, wrinkling my nose. “Get in there. And brush your teeth first thing.”
He gave me a wobbly salute and staggered off to the master bathroom. I followed him, listening to the clattering and swearing as he tried to do… whatever it was he was doing in the bathroom. If I heard any noises of pain, I’d investigate.
In the meantime, having a little poke around his bedroom probably wasn’t ethical, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to know how a billionaire lived. Or, at least, vacationed.
I wandered over to the enormous bed and checked out what he had on the nightstand. A couple of pill bottles, which I ignored—there was a limit to my spying—and a Kindle on a charger. So, he was a reader. I picked it up and opened the cover, and the screen came to life. I tapped my way into the library. Mostly fantasy novels, with some non-fiction about history.
Now, I understood why he and my brother were such close friends. Matt was a giant nerd.
I put the Kindle back and wandered to the armoire, to see if he was the kind of person who took out their clothes and put them away in a hotel room. Other than a hanging garment bag, he must have been living out of his suitcase. I liked that.
I liked a lot about him. It’s why I’d gotten out of bed and come over in the first place. Not that I’d been asleep. I’d been frustratingly awake, wishing I was fucking Matt instead of watching mobsters kill each other. Forcing myself not to answer his call on the first ring had taken serious willpower, and there was only so much to go around. I’d been fighting my crush since about ten minutes after we met, and I was losing the battle.
I had no illusions about what was happening between us. Weekend fling. That was all. And if I tried to picture us becoming something more, it never looked quite right in my head. But something intense was going on in my heart that I needed to keep an eye on if I didn’t want to spend a few days moping around my house as I came down from this high.
The shower turned on and I looked toward the sound. Matt’s towering height and impossibly broad shoulders filled the door frame. The body made up for the geekery in a big way. So did his smile. I could forgive all manner of endearingly embarrassing traits when he turned that huge, bright smile on me.
“I’ve brushed my teeth,” he said, motioning over his shoulder. “You should probably come fuck me now.”
“Good idea.” I stripped off my shirt as I walked and popped off my sandals at the bathroom door. Matt went ahead and got in. The shower took up the end of the bathroom, partitioned off by a glass wall and tiled with safe shades of brown and a pebble-textured floor. The jacuzzi tub snagged my attention, reminding me of the night we’d spent drinking and talking about nothing.
I shimmied out of my jeans and panties and got into the shower, standing back as he ducked under the rainfall head. The water ran down the trenches of muscle definition in his back and I had to withhold a moan of appreciation. How was this guy even real?
I walked over and stood behind him, putting my arms around his waist and leaning my cheek against his back, letting the water cascade over me. He put one hand over both my wrists and gave them a squeeze, then turned.
His big brown eyes searched my face as he gazed down at me. I was sure I didn’t look my best; my hair was only half-wet, my mascara was sure to be running, and I had to blink rapidly against the spray splashing my face. But from his expression, he wasn’t seeing any of that.