Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
He was like a honeybee, checking out all the different flowers.
Which was fine if that was his thing—but it wasn’t hers. Catie had grown up with a man who couldn’t commit to her. She was done with that. Finito. Over. The end. Friends with benefits was not a concept in her emotional vocabulary—there were too many fuzzy edges for her in such a relationship.
On the flip side, they had to face this and sort it.
“It’ll burn out,” she said firmly, to harden up those fuzzy edges. “It’s like actors who fall in love on a set. They get influenced by acting at being in lust, and it spills over.” That was far less terrifying an idea than that she might actually be falling for Danny. “Also, we might be terrible together physically, which will end things then and there.”
Danny winced before rubbing a hand over his heart. “Way to skewer a guy’s ego, princess. Now I’m going to have to read the Kama Sutra to upgrade my skills.”
Her lips twitched even as parts of her grew soft and wet at the thought of doing erotic things with Danny. “However long it takes to burn out, you agree we can’t tell anyone?”
He nodded at once. “Can you imagine how awkward it’d be if our families knew we’d…?” He touched his lips, then pointed to hers. “As for the rest…”
“Yes.” Everyone would assume it was serious, and she couldn’t blame them—you didn’t throw this type of grenade unless you meant it. And when they inevitably split up, it would break everyone’s hearts. Not that the family would do anything but back their decision—but Catie and Danny would know the hurt was there.
Better to head it off before it began.
“So.” He folded his arms, unfolded them, put them on his hips, then folded them again.
An unexpected tenderness bloomed inside her. Danny the Player was nervous. Cute. “This is already awkward,” she said with a smile. “Maybe we’ve exorcised the lust just by talking about it.”
Their eyes met right then, and whoosh, there went all the air out of her body. This time it was Danny who stepped forward, Danny who took her face in his warm, slightly rough-skinned hands, Danny who put his lips on hers.
Her eyes closed of their own accord, every ounce of her focused on the kiss. On the firm pressure of his lips, on the way he cradled her face, on the way his body pressed into her own as his breath became hers, his taste in her blood.
Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back just as deep, no more thinking, no more analyzing. When he pulled off his tee to throw it to the floor, she stroked the toned muscles of his back, glorying in his strength as he returned to his adoration of her mouth.
Because that’s exactly what it felt like: adoration.
Never had she been kissed with this much intent, this much concentration. As if every ounce of his being was focused on her lips. He didn’t get handsy or start grinding his erection against her. It was as if the kiss was an appetizer he was bound and determined to enjoy to the nth degree.
As if he’d waited for this kiss and wasn’t about to rush it.
She was the one with her hands all over him—and he didn’t mind in the least from the way he stood so close and kept on with kissing her. Until she was breathless and her nipples plump and hard and it felt as if her breasts would burst out of her bra.
She got it now, why Danny always had a line of women out the door—and why none of those women ever had a bad word to say about him. Her childhood nemesis knew how to make a woman feel as if she was the most important person in his universe.
A pang hit her.
She pushed it aside, determined not to let foolishness spoil the pleasure between them. This was what it was; she couldn’t change it—and she’d broken her own rules to indulge in it, so indulge she would. Until it came to an inevitable end. Some would call that nihilistic thinking, but Catie called it being pragmatic.
As her father was who he was, and Jacqueline was who she was, Danny was who he was. That happened to be a hot, young rugby star who wasn’t against accepting the invitations handed to him on a silver platter.
Which brought up a point they did have to address.
Hands pressed flat on his chest, her own heaving, she pushed.
Breaking the kiss, he said, “Yeah?” and it sounded as breathless as she felt.
That did things to her. Serious, bone-melting things. But she had to be sensible about this. “Are you clean?”
“Why? Do I smell?” Lifting an arm, he sniffed at his armpit.