Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
"Not going back," Jessica mumbles. "I hate him."
“Relax. You’re not going anywhere tonight, baby.”
I set her down on the couch after letting myself in. My place isn't huge. None of ours are, but there’s a separate bedroom, and I have a decent sized living room with an open kitchen. Nothing fancy, but more than the hotplate, microwave and mini fridge most of the guys have.
I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and hand it to her. “Trust me. Drink something before you pass out. It’ll make the morning a lot less painful.”
Jessica yawns, but as soon as the cold bottle is in her hand, she seems to wake up a little and look around. “This is nice. I like those.” She points to the black and white motorcycle pictures I have on the wall.
“I took them.”
“Really?” She does a double take.
“Yeah, don’t look so surprised. Never been any good at painting or shit like that, but cameras are cool.” When did I last have anyone new in here? I don’t even remember.
She leans over, snuggling into the couch. “I’ll just sleep here.”
“Like fuck you are. Come on.” I pull her to her feet before she passes out and walk her to my bedroom. “You can shower or whatever you need to do in the morning. Bathroom’s through there if you need it.” I flick the light on as we walk by, in case she needs to find it fast in the dark.
“I don’t have a nightgown or anything.”
Funnily enough, I don't fucking have any either, but I grab a T-shirt out of my dresser. "Here, you can wear this. It'll be big on you. Get changed and keep drinking that water. I’ll be back in a sec."
"Oh. Thanks." She flips the shirt around, looking for the right hole. Great.
I get ready for sleep in the bathroom, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by having to change with me right there. I thought I gave her plenty of fucking time, but even so, when I open the door, I get an amazing view of her from behind as she pulls my shirt over her head.
Fuuuuuck.
She looks hot as shit, with long, curvy legs, a nice round ass, and a graceful back with cute dimples right at the base. It’s a shame to cover it up, but then again, I like seeing her in my clothes.
I clear my throat before coming in, love seeing her jump. “You take that side. It’s a clear line to the bathroom if you need it."
She blinks. "Um, okay. Are you… Are you sleeping on the other side?"
I pull off my shirt and jeans, tossing them on my laundry pile. “Is that a problem?”
“N—no. Of course not.” She might be sobering up, but I have a feeling that if she wasn’t still a little tipsy, she wouldn’t be so fucking obvious about staring at me like that.
Especially when her eyes drop to the bulge under my boxer briefs. I sigh. “Baby? You need to get in bed and go to sleep right fucking now, because if you keep looking where you’re looking, there’s just gonna be more to look at, and I don’t think you’re up for what that. Read what I’m saying?”
Her cheeks flush bright pink and she crawls under the covers really fucking fast. “Sorry.”
I can't help but laugh. "Nothing to be sorry about. I wouldn’t mind giving you a show, but I’m trying to be a fucking gentleman here."
Jessica looks at me, her lips gently parted and an expression on her face that makes me wonder if she’d rather I didn’t try too hard.
“Go to sleep,” I growl, turning off the light before I do something she’d regret.
14
JESSICA
Where am I?
My eyes pop open, showing me an unfamiliar wall.
Last night comes back to me in fragments. Bar, rock music, drinking… kisses. Oh my God, the kisses. I kissed all of them. Tex, Riot and Ghost. And I liked it. A lot. I think I even did pretty well, not that I have anything to compare it to, but they didn’t have any complaints and I’m pretty sure guys like them know the difference between a good kiss and a bad one.
I just can't believe I actually did it.
The bed shifts, and someone makes a low, sleepy noise. I slap a hand over my mouth, holding in the squeak of surprise. I turn as carefully as possible to see who I’m sharing a bed with, because I’m very sure it isn’t Anne.
Ghost is asleep beside me. He’s kicked off the blanket, and his head is turned the other way, with one arm slung over his eyes. I want to reach out and touch him, but it might break the spell.
His hair is undone and loose on his pillow. It’s shaved close on the sides, but long enough down the center to let him bind it back most of the time. Red glints in his short beard, and his lips are slightly parted. My eyes trail down his body, taking in the light dusting of hair on his chest that thickens as it approaches his boxers. His torso is covered in scars, signs of a dangerous life lived. Really dangerous, from the looks of it. And where there aren’t scars, there are colorful tattoos, just like up and down his arms. At least there aren’t any girlfriend names that I can see. Then my eyes drop lower.