Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I’m stunned for a moment, absorbing what she’s just told me. It took some serious emotional heavy lifting for her to lay that on the table. I think it might be the first honest moment between us, a small glimpse at the authentic person beneath all the bravado and misdirection. And it’s kind of heartbreaking. Like, all right, sometimes I’m a bastard, but I get this is a precious thing for her and whatever I’ve done right, she decided to share it with me.
A small pang of guilt swirls around in my gut at the reminder that I lied about liking her favorite band. That I only knew the damn band existed because I hacked her. But I do my best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation. It’s not like I used Sloane’s dead mom against her on purpose. And it all worked out, didn’t it? She’s having a good time and, if I’m reading her right, had one more chance to relive a happy memory. All’s well that ends well, right?
“I bet you take after her more than you realize,” I tell her, which gets a shy smile in return. “Your mom sounds like a cool chick.”
“She was.” Whatever memory flashes behind Sloane’s indiscernible gray eyes, she blinks, and it’s gone. She lifts the bottle to her lips and takes a long gulp. “So thank whoever clued you in. Far as first dates go, this one was a sure thing to get on my good side.”
“Enough for a second date?”
Her coy glare returns and all sentimentality evaporates. “Getting ahead of yourself much?”
“Eh, I like my chances.”
“God, you’re so sure of yourself.”
Sloane rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t object when I drag her chair closer to kiss her again. Our lips meet, tongues touching for one tempting, agonizing second before she pulls back.
“You’re a good kisser,” she whispers, her soft breath tickling my face. “But not—”
“Swear to God,” I interrupt, “if you say ‘but not as good as Duke,’ I’m never sharing my weed with you again, Tresscott.”
Her laughter heats my neck as she buries her face there and convulses. “Down, boy. All I was going to say is, but it’s not how I expected you to kiss.”
“What’d you expect?” I ask roughly. I rest my hand on her hip, lightly dragging my fingers over the exposed skin between her waistband and top. I don’t miss the way she shivers.
Her expression takes on a pensive gleam. “Slower, lazier. I figured you’d treat kissing the way you treat everything else, like you couldn’t care less. But it’s not like that.”
“Trust me, I care very much about kissing you.”
Those sexy lips curve. “Yeah? Then do it again.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I lean in, my mouth a scant inch from hers before something else occurs to me. “Goddamn it,” I curse.
“What?”
“He doesn’t have a tiny dick, does he?”
Sloane startles. Then she snorts. “Wait, you mean Duke?”
“Yeah,” I say miserably. “I’ve taken great pleasure in the thought that all those bench presses and biceps curls are to compensate for a little dick, but now that I’m thinking about it—”
“Why are you thinking about my ex’s dick when you’re kissing me?” she demands in exasperation.
“—I’m realizing there’s no way you would’ve stuck around for so long if he was rocking a small package. So that means it’s not tiny, right?”
Her lips are twitching wildly. “No, rookie, I’m afraid not.”
“Bastard.”
She laughs, then raises herself off her chair and slithers into my lap. “Luckily, you don’t seem to have any problems in that department either,” she murmurs, and then she rubs her perfect ass over my growing erection and kisses me again, and damned if I don’t see stars.
It’s like we don’t know how to temper ourselves. The instant we touch, something consumes us. Total blackout. Her nails biting into my skin. My teeth scraping her tongue. She pulls my hair at the roots and I’m about to rip her pants off if not for the split-second of clarity that reminds me we’re in public and I still barely know this girl. She’s hypnotizing.
“They’re going to kick us out of here,” she whispers against my lips before shoving her tongue in my mouth again like she paid for it.
“They should,” I rasp back. “We’re completely indecent.”
But we don’t stop, not until the manager of the bar eventually stomps up to our table and politely announces it’s time to go.
Later, after the car drops us back at campus, I walk her all the way back to the path despite her protests. “I can find my way home in the dark,” she grumbles.
“I know you can. But I’m being a gentleman. Would you just let me be a fucking gentleman?”
Her quiet snort echoes between us.
“And now she’s laughing at me,” I narrate out loud.
“She is,” Sloane agrees.
“Watch it, cupcake. Or I’ll do something crazy. Like hold your hand. Or text you good night when I get home.”