Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“We were going to have fun on the ice, and every time I smiled you’d get an emotional boner.” I shift in my seat. The sun has dipped below the trees and shadows dance across his face.
“And that happened, which was awesome. I must be psychic or something.” He stretches his arm along the back of my seat, hand close to my shoulder but not touching. “We’d share those fritters, which also happened. And I kind of love how you savor everything, and you make these little contented noises when you’re eating something you enjoy.”
“I do not make noises when I eat!” My ears and cheeks heat.
“You totally do, and it’s fucking adorable. Anyway, as I was saying, we’d eat fritters and have that ice cream date I was hoping for. Except I didn’t plan for it to be in the staff room, which is incredibly lacking in romance and ambiance. Although it meant we could heat up the fritters, and they’re way better warm with ice cream.”
“You’re making me hungry again.”
“Sorry, I’m meandering. I’ll get back on track. So I’d convince you to go to that practice, which you did, and I’d wait for you, which I did.” He runs the hand that isn’t slung over the back of my seat over his thigh, like maybe he’s nervous. “And then I’d drive you home, but I’d park far enough away that you wouldn’t worry about getting caught with the tattooed bad boy from the other side of the lake—as an aside, I’m not a bad boy at all, and most of the time I’m in bed by eleven at the latest.”
“How much longer is this story?”
“Not much. I’m getting to the climax. I promise.”
When I don’t say anything, he takes it as his cue to continue. I consider shoving my tongue in his mouth to hurry things along.
“So, we’d end up here.” He motions to our surroundings. “And then I’d ask if you’re still interested in skating with me tomorrow afternoon.”
I hold up a hand. “I have a question.”
“Do you not wanna wait for the end of the story before you ask it?”
“Actually, it’s not a question.”
“I see. And it can’t wait until I’m done with the story?”
“This story better end with one hell of an amazing kiss.”
“Are you saying you want me to kiss you?”
“Well, yeah, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t still be sitting here listening to this endless fucking story. I’m over here waiting for something to happen, and you just keep talking and talking and talking.”
“It’s a slow burn.” He runs his hand over his thigh again.
“Are you nervous? Because if that’s the issue, I can help.” I grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward. This would be fine if he wasn’t wearing a seat belt and I hadn’t yanked him aggressively, causing the belt to do its job and prevent him from getting more than six inches from his seat.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I jam the release on my own seat belt and reach across to do the same for him. Once we’re no longer at the mercy of restraints, I mash my lips against his.
He has the audacity to smile. “My version had a little more finesse.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He cups my face in his hands and pulls back, his expression suddenly serious. “Did you not like my story?”
“You are killing me, BJ. Put me out of my misery and kiss me. Please.”
“How can I say no when you’re being so polite?” He angles his head and brushes his lips over mine. Soft. Sweet. His tongue flicks out, skimming my top lip.
I lean in, glad the center console isn’t an impediment. I tug the spiral tie out of his hair so it’s loose and run my fingers through the gloriously satiny strands. He has great hair. I angle my head and part my lips, tongue pushing past his. That soft sweetness lasts for all of three seconds. BJ groans, the sound making all my hot spots light right the hell up. Then he does this twirl thing with his tongue that curls my toes. And suddenly it’s a battle. I can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of the feel of his velvet tongue tangling with mine, or the way he sucks my bottom lip and uses exactly the right amount of teeth. BJ turns kissing into art, and I can’t wait to find out what other talents he has.
I keep trying to drag him across the seat, but there isn’t room. I abandon his hair and run my hand down his chest. When I find the hem of his shirt, I slide my hand under, meeting warm, bare skin. Before I can move to shove my hand down the front of his pants, he breaks the kiss and laces our fingers together.