Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“This heatwave is a killer,” Wade says, after cracking his beer and taking a sip. He set the box down at his feet. Did he chill the whole box in the fridge?
“It is.” I can practically see the heat waves shimmering in the air between us.
Wade’s eyes shift around the backyard, taking in my planter beds with the struggling plants. I’ve been watering like crazy, but the heat really is a killer. Everything looks totally droopy and withered right now.
“I’m impressed. The planters are great.”
“Oh. I didn’t build them. My dad and brother did all the work. I’m useless with power tools. I—well—if anything actually survives the heat, I can give you some if you like. Tomatoes and carrots and beans or whatever.”
Wade takes a sip of his beer and grins. I keep staring at the can because it’s the safest place to look but watching the beads of condensation form on the can and roll over Wade’s strong fingers somehow seems… sexual. My skin feels tight and hot, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the sweltering heat causing the discomfort.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
We lapse back into silence. Wade keeps sipping his beer, and I keep sipping mine. I realize I’m actually quite parched, and before I know it, I’ve finished the can, and Wade silently passes me another. I don’t refuse. I haven’t eaten much all day since I was in a constant state of upheaval about the kiss yesterday. I didn’t sleep well either last night. I was haunted by dreams of a certain someone who may or may not be sitting pretty dang close to me at the moment.
I’m starting to think Wade might be more dangerous than the spider that is still at large.
I finish the second beer and start in on a third. I don’t know whether I’m gulping it back because I’m overheating or thirsty or nervous or all of those things.
After the third, I figure it’s enough, and even though I don’t know why I’m standing, I suddenly realize I am. The sudden movement makes my head spin a little. Three beers may not be much, but it’s quite a bit for me.
Apparently, beer does quick work of inhibitions because, all of a sudden, I’m reaching forward and stepping towards Wade. All of a sudden, he’s standing too. And all of a sudden, our hot, sticky skins are pressing together, our limbs are tangling, and our lips and tongues are clashing again.
Okay, so I don’t think either of us forgot about the kiss from yesterday.
I kind of wish I hadn’t left. Okay, so I really wished, especially after the dreams that I had all night, I hadn’t left his house so soon. This kiss might be dangerous, but it’s also irresistible. I can’t believe that just a few minutes ago I was sitting in my house telling myself that my hot neighbor was off-limits no matter how freaking good of a kisser he is because he’s destined to leave, and I really don’t want to get involved with someone who is just going to come in and take a freaking bulldozer to my heart, but the next second, we’re sucking on each other’s mouths again. Our hands are roving all over each other, and we’re stumbling through the patio doors into the house.
The door slams shut, and all of a sudden, I’m pressed up against the wall. I’m tugging Wade’s face back to mine and claiming his mouth like there’s a meteor streaking straight towards earth. We keep kissing and frantically clawing at each other until Wade’s shirt disappears. I take a second to drink in the delicious sight of his naked chest. I remember the day I saw him—uh—pretty much in his natural state after he jumped out of the shower to defend his house and found me in his kitchen instead.
The sight of his naked chest is seared into my brain for life, and the second glimpse is just as delicious.
“Upstairs,” I pant. “My bedroom is upstairs.”
Wade grips my hips and lifts me easily. I wrap my legs around his strong waist, noting how our skin, which is still clammy from the heat outdoors, sticks together. It shouldn’t be hot, but it is. Oh my god, it really is.
“Are you sure you want to—”
“Yes,” I rasp near his ear before I sensually lick the hell out of it and nibble on his earlobe. “Yes, I’m sure.” And I am. Even if it’s going to hurt later when Wade leaves, I need this. I need him. It’s not rational, and I know it’s not the beer, because I’m just nicely buzzed, not even drunk, and no, it’s not the heat. I don’t know what it is. I just need him. I want him. And it seems like he wants me too, and for tonight, that’s enough.