Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Chapter Fourteen - Joanne
It was late when I finally got back home. I hadn’t meant to spend so long at Naomi’s apartment, but I definitely didn’t regret it. It had felt good to finally get some of the things I’d been feeling for the past couple of days off my chest—to talk to someone who actually understood what I was going through.
Well, most of what I was going through, anyway.
Naomi just had a way of making me feel better. No matter what the problem was, she either had a comforting hug or a tidbit of advice that never failed to resonate with me. Usually, it was a combination of the two.
There was one piece of advice Naomi had given that would absolutely not work, though. Losing my virginity to Brady was not the answer I had been looking for.
I rolled my eyes at the thought as I got out of my car and walked up the driveway to my mom’s house. Unfortunately, it was going to take a little more than some strategic flirting—or sex, for that matter—to solve this problem.
Not that I would necessarily have been opposed to trying, of course.
Objectively, Brady was hot. Really hot. And probably really good in bed, too. Those arms, that chest, those eyes…
But no.
It wouldn’t work, for so many reasons—the main one still being that he was planning on selling off everything that I loved, my safe place, my livelihood.
That was just wrong, no matter how hot the guy was.
Then there was the potential problem—or at least potential obstacle—of Brady’s interest. My brain was pretty sure he wasn’t interested. My body, though—and my pussy, in particular—thought maybe so.
Wishful thinking, no doubt.
Was I really going to think with my pussy when it came to men? Hadn’t I learned my lesson about bad choices already?
I unlocked and opened the front door as quietly as possible, thankful that I was greeted by a darkened living room. The house still smelled like lasagna. What a waste of my favorite meal. I craned my head to look down the hallway toward my mother’s bedroom.
There was no light shining from under the door.
Perfect.
Even though I knew it was pretty much inevitable, the last thing I wanted in that moment was a continuation of the dinner conversation I’d had with my mother.
She’d likely press me about my thoughts and my feelings about everything at some point, but for now? I was really tired of talking about it. And for once, the universe seemed to be on my side.
I walked straight to the bathroom and turned the shower on hot, happy for the soothing steam as I took off my clothes. If anything would relax me and let me push aside the night’s events, it would be a nice, long shower. And there was no doubt I’d need every bit of rest and relaxation I could get if I was going to get through the next day with Brady.
I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes as the hot water washed over me.
Brady.
It had been impossible to stop thinking about him since the moment I had met the man. At first, I’d been intrigued. Later, I’d been pissed off and hurt. But now?
Now I was horny.
“Dammit, Naomi,” I mumbled, cursing my friend for putting the thought into my head.
Well, for making me think about Brady that way again.
Sex had been the last thing on my mind since I’d found out Brady’s plan to sell the shop, but Naomi’s casual joke had reignited that spark, and my traitorous body had decided now would be a great time to fan the flames.
Even though I didn’t really think I stood a snowball’s chance in hell of actually getting Brady in bed, the suggestion of it—the fantasy of it—was hot as hell. And as long as it was just a fantasy, just a little indulgence, a release… that was okay, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like I was letting myself fall for him, after all. It wasn’t like I was actually considering doing… well, anything with my sexy boss.
Not in real life, at least.
But here, in the privacy of my shower, with nothing but my imagination and my own roaming hands, none of the reasons I shouldn’t do anything with Brady in real life mattered.
I opened my eyes and leaned back against the cool tile wall, using my fingertips to trace the lines of water as they ran in rivulets down my body.
For a split-second I told myself I was just washing… but no. No, I wasn’t.
I tilted my chin up, turning my face more fully toward the shower’s spray, and ran a finger lightly over my wet lips.
Would Brady kiss me, if we started something?
Yes. Tonight, at least, when Brady was all in my head, he would do everything I wanted.
He would start at my jawline—nipping and biting and whispering dirty things as he pressed me against the wet tile.