Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He cares.
And though she didn’t want it to, it was the caring that unraveled her.
It was the way he held back his own pleasure until she found hers, his hand sliding between them, circling slowly, tauntingly, knowing somehow that she needed to be coaxed, just a little more—
She came with a cry, her face lifting instinctively to the crook of his shoulder. His hand came to the back of her neck, holding her as she shuddered against him, then laying her back slowly as her body started to relax.
His mouth crushed over hers, kissing her as he thrust home once more, gasping against her lips as he found his release.
Kate felt a flicker of alarm at the realization that his release brought her almost as much pleasure as her own, alarm turning to panic as he pressed a kiss to her temple that felt entirely too tender for her heart to handle.
He pulled away slowly and unabashedly rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom. She heard the flush of the toilet, the running water of the faucet, and sat up, sheet clutched to her nakedness as she looked desperately at the door, wondering, What now?
She didn’t do this. She didn’t have afternoon sex with a guy. And definitely not with a guy she worked with.
Did she run off and deal with the aftermath later? Did she play it cool, like it was no big deal? Did she—
The bathroom door opened, and Kennedy walked to the dresser, pulling on a pair of black boxer briefs, then pulling out a T-shirt.
Kate said nothing as she watched him, then realized he wasn’t putting the T-shirt on. Instead, he tossed it her way.
She looked down at it lying across her lap. “What—”
He shrugged. “Or stay naked. No complaints.”
Well, when he put it that way . . .
Kate pulled on the shirt. It was gray, soft, probably expensive, and shock of all shocks . . . not even remotely wrinkled.
She took a deep breath and realized the benefit of sleeping with someone she’d known for years was that she didn’t have to figure out next steps in her own head. Instead, she handled it Kate style. No games.
“So now what?” she asked, looking him right in the eye.
He looked unperturbed by the directness. Hell, he’d probably been expecting it. The whole knowing each other thing went both ways.
“I usually want two things after sex: a nap and food. It just depends which comes first.”
“Depends on what?”
He looked at her. “You.”
“You want me to . . . nap with you?”
He shrugged. “Or eat. Your choice.”
Kate felt her heart squeeze, and she wasn’t sure if it was with hope or panic. But there’d be plenty of time to sort all of that out later. For now . . .
She smiled and flopped back on the bed. “Are you kidding? Nap. I mean, how much are these sheets? Be honest, are they more than my annual salary? They are, aren’t they? Did you know I got mine at Target? Thirty bucks.”
“You don’t say,” he said, coming around the side of the bed and lifting the covers to join her.
“They’re pretty nice,” she said, rolling toward him. “Not as nice as these. But good for the price.”
“Hmm.” His eyes were already drifting closed. “I’ll have to try them sometime.”
“Will you?”
His eyes opened. “Hmm?”
Kate swallowed. “It’s just that you sounded sort of certain that you’d be trying my sheets, and I was sort of thinking this was a onetime thing.”
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep, Kate.”
She couldn’t. Not after she’d just done the unthinkable and had no-strings afternoon nooky with Kennedy.
And yet she did.
And damn if it wasn’t the best sleep she’d had in weeks.
26
Saturday, May 25
“What am I looking at here?” Sabrina asked, picking up the wooden skewer of grapes and inspecting it.
“Anal beads,” Kate said around a stuffed mushroom. “Duh.”
“Nice,” Sabrina declared, dropping said “beads” into the glass of champagne she’d just poured.
“Here, dear,” she said, handing the flute to an approaching Lara.
“Oooh, pretty garnish,” Lara said. “I love grapes. They’re so elegant.”
“Mm,” Sabrina said noncommittally. “So elegant.” She reached out to adjust Lara’s crooked tiara. “How many drinks have you had, babe?”
In response, Lara pushed her glasses up her nose and then spun in a circle, the white tutu Kate had bought her for the occasional whirling fanning out around her. Impressively, she managed not to spill a drop of the champagne, despite the definite tipsy wobble she had going on. “I’m getting married in two weeks. Married!”
She shouted the last word, and Kate laughed at her friend’s uncharacteristic giddiness. “Guess those drinks took effect,” she said as Lara twirled away to join her best friend and former roommate, Gabby, on the couch.
Gabby had moved to London with her boyfriend a year earlier but had flown back to New York for the wedding festivities. The most recent of said festivities being one (or twelve) rounds of Moscow Mules from testicle-shaped cups. Kate had had two. Lara and Gabby? A few more.