Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Ten seconds later, she’s saying, “Hey, girl, it’s Ivy Samuels. Something came up, and I can’t cover your wedding.”
A pause. “What came up?” Ivy asks, presumably repeating Simone’s question.
Another pause. “Oh, just the fact that my doctors have suggested I limit my exposure to all things toxic. And that’d be you and my ex. Thanks a bunch, though, and best of luck with your blowout bash.”
When she hangs up, she lets out a huge, excited breath, then punches the sky. “I did it!”
“You fucking did it,” I echo, then stand and wrap her in a hug. Hayes joins me, embracing her too.
Hmm. This hug feels pretty good. Especially when she wriggles against me. Then against him. Then me again. Then she whispers, “I missed…fucking.”
“And I missed fucking you. But you need to take it easy,” I say, but with heat in my voice.
“Don’t forget twelve hours ago, your wrist was wrapped,” Hayes reminds her. “You need to rest it for a full day.”
She peels away and heads to the staircase leading to the roof. “Well, my right wrist works fine.”
39
THE ROOFTOP GAME
Hayes
I push through the doors of the restaurant, hellbent on sprinting to the patio this second. I march to the hostess stand, manned by a guy with a handlebar mustache.
“Hey there. Can I grab a soda on the patio?”
Say yes. My jaw is tight with anticipation. Stefan didn’t call ahead. I didn’t ask him to. We weren’t fucking thinking when Ivy said to me, “You’ve always wanted a show, right?”
Then Stefan said he’d direct.
And yes, yes, yes, I fucking want a show. And I want it now.
The man smiles apologetically, a customer service no. “It’s not open right now, sir. We won’t open till noon. In ten minutes.”
Like I’m on the ice and I’ve spotted a defender coming out of nowhere, I switch tactics. After fishing for my wallet, I grab a hundred-dollar bill, then fold it discreetly but clearly. “I just need five minutes to check it out for a party. Can you help me?” I offer him the bill, hoping so hard he’ll say yes. Don’t want to call Stefan for permission. I want to pull my weight in every way.
The man hesitates, glancing furtively around before he reaches for it. “Of course,” he says, pocketing the payola.
I won’t tell my buddy I bribed his employee either.
I want to turbo boost out there this second, but I cool my jets as he guides me through the indoor seating to the patio door. After he unlocks it, he says helpfully, “Can I show you around?”
“I can handle it solo.” Just like Ivy is doing.
I leave him behind. I march straight to the stone railing, my building in my crosshairs. I bring my binoculars to my eyes and aim them at the roof of my place.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Ivy’s nearly naked and somehow the white scraps of lace for her bra and panties make her impossibly sexier. She stretches out on the lounge. Stefan’s parked in a chair a few feet away, watching her. I can’t text Stefan fast enough with one word. Here.
He glances at the phone vibrating in his hand, then he says something to her. I catch her smiling.
“Take them off,” I mutter, wanting those panties to vanish right fucking now. “Make her take them off.”
She doesn’t strip though. She slides her right hand into her hair, roaming it through those lush, dark locks. Goddamn, I want that to be my hand. Want to thread my fingers through all that hair. Tug on it, sniff it, play with it.
She turns her head to the side, giving me an inviting glimpse of the column of her neck before she lets go then runs that hand along her throat, over the top of her chest. Stopping at her tits, she turns to Stefan, saying something.
No idea what she says, but I bet she’s asking him for permission. I bet he’s saying, “Tease him.”
Yes, Ivy, fucking tease me.
She flicks her right nipple through the bra, teasing me, indeed. Her lips part.
That’s it. That’s my girl. She loves her nipple play. She arches her hips higher and higher still before she slides her right hand down her stomach on a sensual, seductive path. Her hips shimmy, subtly rocking the whole time.
I desperately want to draw those tits into my mouth. She’s not even showing them to me, not even unhooking her bra, but the way she plays with them drives me wild.
Then her fingers reach the top of her panties, and I’m dying.
Stefan’s in view, and he leans back in the chair, fully dressed, urging her on with his words. A nod to her waist. A suggestion, perhaps.
“Show me, baby. Show me how wet you are,” I urge.
She doesn’t take them off, and I sigh in frustration. But then, I moan when her hand disappears into her panties. When she reaches her wet pussy, her mouth parts in a needy O. The look on her face, even from the distance in the binoculars, is so fucking sexy.