Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I guess I can pencil you in for a few hours on Sunday.” She grins at me playfully.
“Come here,” I tell her and tug her hand forcing her to practically sit on my lap. “I’m going to miss you tonight. I know I’d sleep a lot better if you were in my arms.”
“So come up and hold me,” she breathes against my lips, and I almost give in. I almost convince myself that I’d be able to crawl into the bed with her in a dark room and only hold her against my chest.
“I can’t, Emmalyn,” I say my voice showing just how pained I am at the thought of leaving tonight. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. That’s not how I want things to begin with you. Please don’t ask me again.”
“Okay,” she concedes and kisses my lips softly.
I open the driver’s side door and let her climb out first. Standing, I adjust the erection in my pants, knowing there is another cold shower in my very near future. I walk her to the door and kiss her lips one last time before scooting her along into the house. I wait until I hear the lock turn on the door before heading over to my bike and back to my house for another restless night alone.
Chapter 23
Emmalyn
All week the only thing I can think of is the date that Diego asked me on. I haven’t been on a date since high school, and I think I’m just as nervous now as I was then. I’ve seen him daily. He’s picked me up, taken me to work, and walked me to the door each night after my shift at the bar. A light kiss on my lips is the most he’s given me since shutting me down in the car Monday night. If he pulls that light kiss on the lips shit with me tonight, I may strangle him.
He told me last night when he dropped me off to be ready by three and to wear jeans. I don’t know many dates that start so early in the day, but I didn’t drill him for information. He seemed genuinely excited for whatever he had planned.
I drum my fingers on my thighs and check the time on my cell phone for the tenth time in two minutes.
Kid’s chuckle from across the room makes me smile. He’s become like a fixture these days, my living shadow. I don’t mind, he’s ridiculously cute in a little brother sort of way, and most of the time when he opens his mouth something funny comes out.
“You planning on staying with him tonight?” I grin at him but shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t know how the evening will go.” It’s the truth even though I hope it ends up with me in his arms. I haven’t slept as well since the nap I took in his arms earlier this week. I’d be lying to myself if even for one second I think all I want to do is sleep in his arms.
“I can tell him to let you off Emmalyn-duty if you want.” I know he’s frustrated, even if he doesn’t show it often. Any twenty-four-year-old man would have lost it by now having to babysit me for the last three weeks. I applaud his resilience thus far.
“No!” He stands from his spot on the couch and makes his way across the room until he’s standing in front of me. “Please don’t say anything to him.” He pleads with his eyes as his hands clasp in symbolic prayer in front of his chest. “Hanging out with you is an honor. If you say something he won’t let me do it anymore.”
I laugh. “An honor? That’s absurd.”
“Protecting the President’s girl is the biggest honor, Emmalyn.” He’s completely serious.
“His girl,” I whisper. I like the sound of that, even though this is coming from Kid and not Diego himself. Looking up, I laugh at Kid who’s still standing in front of me waiting for my answer. “I won’t say a word, Kid. Now sit down. I’m nervous enough. The last thing I need is you standing over me.”
He sits back down with a heavy sigh of relief. I shake my head at his insistence, but I wonder briefly what exactly he’s protecting me from and if I’m somehow being threatened. Add it to the list of a hundred other things I need to get around to talking to Diego about.
My heart pounds in my chest when the rumble of a motorcycle reverberates through the house. I shift nervously in my seat, not knowing if I should meet him on the porch or wait for him to come in.
“You just gonna sit there?” Kid asks with a smirk.
I stand up, flip him off, and walk to the front door. I didn’t know we would be taking his bike, but his insistence on wearing jeans makes sense now. I stand on the porch and wait for him to climb off his bike. Long, muscular, blue jean-clad legs carry him to me. Strong, tattooed arms hold out a leather jacket to me as he approaches.