Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Normally, I would agree. But it’s been six months.”
I’m inferring she’s talking about how long since she last got laid. I have her beat. “Ten months for me.”
She sways back in surprise. “Really? You didn’t hookup with anyone during the FanCon?”
“No. I wouldn’t fool around with tour crew, and I was busy.” I was focused on protecting Jane. I nod to her. “Been used to long dry spells.” I hear my Philly lilt come out thicker. “It’s not a big deal.”
She’s quick and smart and I’m not surprised when she connects the dots. “When you were in the military?”
I nod again. “I was deployed to combat twice overseas during my four-year tour.”
It feels like another lifetime, and since we’re talking about sex, I’m thinking more about the drawn-out dry spell I had.
Say more. I try to chisel my jaw open. “Staying celibate wasn’t an issue,” I explain. “I have no problem pushing myself into hard situations. I like testing my strength—but I couldn’t convince my girlfriend that I was faithful, not while I was on deployment.”
I explain briefly how my second ex-girlfriend was adamant that someone like me would attract a lot of other women, and she believed I’d struggle to resist and then slip up and cheat. When I got back home, I found out that she’d slept with her ex.
Now they’re married and have two kids.
“I take a lot of fault for what happened,” I say. “I’m hard to read, and I could’ve done better to ease her insecurities.”
She inhales a deeper breath that stretches a silent second into a boiling minute. Both of us hardly blink. Nearing a visceral edge.
Jane swallows and waves to me. “You’re very self-aware, you know.”
I don’t respond yet. Wanting to hear what else she has to say.
“And you’re respectful,” she lists, like she’s constructing a PowerPoint of my traits. “Very considerate, as well. All things I’m drawn towards—which is perfect since you’re my fake boyfriend.”
I throb harder. There is only one of Jane, no other person can be all of who she is, and anyone who harasses this girl might as well be tearing the wings off an angel.
I’m honored that I get to be the one to keep her safe.
She’s my duty.
I also shouldn’t want to fuck an angel.
She’s my client . Remember that.
Jane continues on. “And as evidenced by our history, we can clearly restrain ourselves. Which means we can be two consenting adults who casually kiss and not have sex afterwards.”
Our eyes roam beyond our old restraints.
“That sounds right,” I nod, and I study her flushed body, her ankles crossed like she’s squeezing her thighs together. “We should practice.”
“We should,” she agrees. “Kissing?”
“Kissing,” I confirm. “I’m a whole foot taller than you.”
“Exactly,” she notes. “If we just do it in public without proper preparation, it’ll be obvious that we’re fake dating.”
“And that it’s your first time.”
Her intrigue piques. “My first time…”
“With me,” I say strongly.
“Right.” Jane smiles. “Should we start now then?” She hesitates, waiting for my answer. “It will be a good litmus test to see if this will even work.”
It’s going to work.
Because the alternative is doing nothing, and I’d rather mount up and frighten away a bunch of targets.
“I’m good to go,” I tell Jane.
She steps away from her bed.
I pry myself off the door, and I do more than take a single step closer. I take several unwavering strides.
She goes still, seeing me approach, and her eyes glint with eagerness. I watch her savor my assured demeanor, and I stop a breath away.
The top of her head, along with her purple cat ears, just reaches my shoulders.
Jane cranes her neck to look up at me. Dark lashes shading beautiful, emotive blue eyes. Silence bands around us, the space shrunken. Air vacuumed.
“So…” Her voice is a breathy whisper. “I’ll just stand on my tiptoes.” She rises on her toes, but barefoot, she barely lifts herself past the broad length of my shoulders.
I could just lean my head down.
I could.
But I don’t.
In a swift, natural move, I cup the back of her thighs, and I hoist Jane up against my body—we’re eye-level, her legs instinctively spreading apart. Wrapping around my waist, gripping tight.
Her hands fly around the back of my neck and nestle in my hair.
“Oh,” she breathes, lips parted in arousal. I can practically hear the my God that sticks to her throat.
Jane.
I eye her, my pulse pounding.
Heat brews and overflows—she feels too good against my body. This is dangerous. I feel her panting. I feel her thumping heartbeat. I feel her in ways I never fucking have, and I just keep drinking in her breathless state.
She’s lapping up this position. Me holding her. Us welded together.
Her palm slides against the back of my neck, fingers threading up in my hair.
My cock stirs to life, and I restrain myself from carrying her to the bed. Don’t. This close, her scent overpowers me. Fresh flowers.