Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
I snort and follow her back to the bedroom. “Do I look like a mixtapes kinda guy?”
She glances over her shoulder, giving me sexy eyes.
And there goes my cock again, standing to attention and pointing the way to Lainey. I look down to my groin, hearing her chuckling in satisfaction. My head stays low, but my eyes lift to find her. “You love that you do this to me, don’t you?” I know I do.
“Yep.”
I discard my coffee and stalk forward, ready for my next fix of her.
Ding dong.
I ignore the doorbell and look at Lainey’s coffee mug as I approach, my way of telling her to lose it or be burned. It’s gone from her hand in a second, and she starts to back away.
Ding dong.
I dip and capture her around the waist, tossing her up over my shoulder on a squeal. “Tyler.” The doorbell ceases and the knocks start. “It might be your mum.” She laughs as I throw her onto my bed. I follow her through the air and land on her, pinning her in place as she laughs and wriggles.
“Hold still,” I warn.
Bang.
The noise prompts us both to still. “Was that your front door shutting?” Lainey asks. “Shit, does your mum have a key?”
“God, no.” Jesus, I’d never get any peace.
“Then who—” Lainey’s words die on her lips when someone starts calling my name.
“Tyler? Where the hell are you?” Gina shouts.
“Oh fuck.” I look down at Lainey, finding wide, worried eyes. “Well, we did agree to come out.”
“Not like this.” She bucks under me until I’m forced to release her. Scanning my bedroom, she curses and with a lack of any clothes in range, she resorts to grabbing a sheet from my bed to cover herself.
“Tyler?” Gina calls, her voice this time closer. I’ve never heard her so agitated.
I get up and pull on some boxers.
“Please don’t make me do this now,” Lainey pleads. “I’m not prepared.”
“Fine,” I sigh. I can’t blame her, since she’s bollock naked and not long woken up. What’s Gina doing here on a Sunday?
Lainey gets cozy under the sheets as I make tracks to the door.
“Tyler!” Gina bellows.
“I’m coming,” I yell, closing the door behind me as my assistant appears from the kitchen, kitted out in some running gear, her boobs pushed up into a small cropped sports bra. “Fucking hell, Gina.” I point to her chest area. “You need to keep those puppies contained if you’re gonna prance through the streets of London.”
“Morning to you, too.” She cups her tits and wriggles a little. “These puppies are perfectly secure, thank you.”
“What are you doing here?” I pass her and enter my kitchen, flicking the kettle on.
“I was out for a run and thought I’d stop by to say hello.” She sits at the table and smiles.
“Bullshit.” I laugh. “Why are you here, Gina?”
“You look all disheveled.”
“That might have something to do with the fact that I just woke up. You want a drink?” I ask, hoping she says no. Please say no and get on with your Sunday morning jog.
“I mean disheveled as in fucked. You look like you’ve been at it all night.”
I turn toward the kettle to hide any guilt that may have made its way onto my morning face. “That’s my business.” That was a silly thing to say. I’m never so cagey with Gina about my personal life.
“Oh, the wedding. Of course. Jenna obviously stayed the night, then. Is she still here?”
“No.” I fetch a cup down from the cupboard, just one cup, and get to making myself a coffee. “Why are you here?” I repeat, my play to move things along obvious.
“You’re so hospitable,” she grumbles from behind me.
“Gina, gorgeous, in the seven years I’ve known you, never once have you stopped by unannounced on a Sunday morning to say hi.” I turn to confront her, tossing her an expectant look. “What gives?”
She snarls at me, all moody, and crosses one Lycra-clad leg over the over, getting comfortable. It doesn’t bode well, not only because she’s making herself at home.
“I need to talk to you,” she says.
“And it can’t wait until work tomorrow?” I lean back against the counter and cross my arms over my naked chest.
“No, it can’t. I don’t know who’ll be listening at work.”
Gina doesn’t know who could be listening here, either. As far as she’s concerned, last night’s fuck has left the building. “And you couldn’t have called me?”
“I needed to see you.”
I glance past her to the door, mentally calculating the distance between here and my bed. It’s a way; Lainey couldn’t possibly hear, but just in case, I move to the table and take a seat next to Gina. I don’t know what it is that can’t wait until tomorrow, but I’m erring on the side of caution. “Go on,” I prompt, now curious of whatever it is that has my PA here on a Sunday morning looking all fidgety.