Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Yeah, my girl. I left the hickey to prove it.
And he’s right; the no bra is a really nice touch. It would be even better if fucking Hunter wasn’t here cock-blocking, and I could get my hands back on her tits.
“Do you want to take your pancakes to go?” I ask, hinting for Hunter to leave.
“I’m good here. Thanks though.” He halts his chewing for a second to smile at me. “So, when did this start?” He motions between us.
“Last night, actually,” Peyton says cheerfully. “He acted like it was all business, but this lovable hunk had other plans.” She nudges Hunter with her elbow and wiggles her eyebrows.
Hunter laughs. “You old dog.”
Christ. I drag my hands over my face and let out a long breath.
“I think we’re upsetting him,” Hunter whispers, as if I can’t hear him.
“I think it’s because he was playing with my nipples before you interrupted us.”
“Peyton, can you not?” I ask, wishing we could keep some stuff between her and me.
She shrugs. “What? Your hand was up my shirt when he walked in, so I’m pretty sure he put two and two together.”
“Not true.” Hunter comes to my defense. “He could have been massaging your breasts, totally different ballgame than nipple play.” Hunter cups his hands for demonstration. “You see—”
“You’re both fired if you don’t stop talking now.”
As if they’re best friends, they both laugh and go back to their pancakes. Great, just what I need, Hunter and Peyton becoming friends. It’s bad enough I have to deal with Hunter’s antics. I don’t need him looping Peyton in as well. What am I thinking? That’s why they get along so damn well. They both treat me the same way already. So little respect. Cue the eye-roll.
“Got laid and still uptight, should have known better.” Hunter shakes his head and then grows serious. “I’m going to assume since you weren’t in the office at the ass crack of dawn, you’ve found a solution to beat Project Mountain.”
I bring my glass of orange juice to my mouth, the condensation running down my fingers. “We did. Peyton did some impressive work.”
“And you didn’t want to hire her.”
Peyton shoots a glare in my direction. Keeping her eyes trained on mine, she asks, “How much did he resist?”
“More than I expected, but he finally gave in, knew you were the best.”
“Is that right?” she asks a little skeptically, but I put that skepticism to rest.
“You are. Hands down.”
I speak with such conviction that I can tell when my confession registers. Her face softens and she sets down her fork.
Eyes fixed on mine, she says, “You’re going to need to take your pancakes to go now, Hunter. I need to properly thank your friend for having so much faith in me.”
Like a tennis ball, Hunter’s head bounces back and forth between our staredown. He backs his chair away, taking his plate and fork with him. “Uh, I’ll just take these dishes and return them later.”
The door shuts with a click.
I tilt my head at Peyton who stands from her chair and sways that perfect ass toward me while unbuttoning her shirt, revealing an inch of skin at a time. Fuck. She got Hunter to leave with few words. Now with even less, she's coming for me.
I slouch in my chair and grip her hips when she reaches me. She drops the shirt to the floor and leans forward, pressing her hands into my shoulders. My hand glides down the slope of her back to her ass where I squeeze hard.
The smallest of gasps pops out of her mouth before she says, “Pull your pants down, Rome. I’m about to rock your fucking world.”
Doesn’t she know?
She already has.
Chapter Twenty-Five
PEYTON
“Don’t you dare turn your nose up at me.”
“I’m not.”
Accusingly, I point my finger. “You are so turning your nose up. I need a mirror, you should see your face right now.”
“Stop.”
“Rome.”
“Peyton,” he answers with that smooth and sweet voice that I know is made for only me. When he’s talking to anyone else, there is more of a bite to his words, but for me, he has a different tone, and it does something to my insides that makes them all jumpy.
“Be honest, you’re slightly scared.”
He eyes the hot dog I just bought for him from the street vendor with the overgrown beard and dubious expression. We just spent the last two hours lounging and reading in the New York City Public Library, looking at all the art, and taking in the beautiful architecture. And get this . . .
Are you ready for it?
We held hands the entire time.
Cue inner girl squeals. I held Rome Blackburn’s hand, fingers entwined, legit handholding with the occasional thumb rub on his end. It’s such a simple thing, but it meant the world to me, because I’ve dreamt of being with this man for so long that I almost still can’t believe it’s true.