Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Like invite him to my bedroom.
“Well, I’m going to turn in early. Thanks for dinner,” I say to my brother, making a hasty exit.
“You’re welcome,” he says, watching me intently. “You know, we still need to have that talk,” he adds quietly.
I reply with a small smile, “I know, and we will. Promise.”
Caleb stares at me for a few long seconds before nodding. “Okay. Night.”
“Night.” I risk a quick glance to where Brock sits, and all thought goes out the window when my eyes meet his. His hands are behind his head and he’s just watching me, the slightest smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows what he does to me. I throw him a wave and practically run to my room.
The only problem is now I’m restless. I can feel his hands on my legs, on my feet. It makes me itchy, but not in a bad way. In the very nice, very sexy way. In fact, all I can think about is his big hands, and that very impressive erection he didn’t even try to hide earlier this afternoon.
I get comfy on the bed and try to read, but after a while, that proves to be fruitless. It’s another sex scene, and all I can hear is Brock’s voice as he read the excerpt earlier. My skin is flushed, my body humming with desire.
Shooting up out of bed, I pace my room, running through every excuse in the world why I should not sneak down the hall and knock on his door. This is so out of character for me. Usually I’m a third date kind of girl. Maybe a nice kiss at the end of the first date, but never any further. I don’t picture myself climbing a man and riding him like a cowgirl at the rodeo, yet here I am, imagining just that.
My walls start to close in on me. Maybe a nice little walk would do me good. I slip on my shoes and quietly leave my room, telling myself not to look down the hall. Nothing good could come from glancing toward that particular bedroom.
Except maybe a few mind-blowing orgasms.
I pass my brother’s bedroom and notice the door closed as I make my retreat downstairs. First stop is the kitchen to grab a cold drink. My blood feels like it’s boiling as it races through my veins, no doubt due to the naughty pictures parading through my head. I find myself wandering to the back room, where Caleb has his game system set up on a large television. There, I find a single bookshelf along one wall with a few trinkets, framed photographs, and books. All things I gave him.
The first hardback I come across is the one I was looking for. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I’m surprise it’s not dusty, but then again, my brother pays someone to clean for him on a weekly basis, so it shouldn’t really come as a shock.
I take the book to the kitchen and go straight to the drawer where I know he keeps pens and notepads. I quickly jot down a message and slip it inside the cover. Before I leave the kitchen, I poke my head into the laundry room and make sure Hermione’s food and water is full before I grab a bottle of juice and return upstairs.
My eyes immediately scout the doors. Caleb’s is still closed, and I’m sure Hermione is in there, ready to pounce every time he moves his leg. The other guest bedroom door is open, even though I told myself I wasn’t going to look, and while it stands ajar, the one directly across the hall is not. That’s my brother’s home gym.
Without even giving them direction, my legs carry me toward the closed door. I can hear rapid thumping and can picture Brock running on the treadmill. Honestly, that surprises me a little, considering how exhausted they were when they got home from practice.
Not wanting to disturb him, I turn to retreat to my own room when I realize I’m still holding the book. Instead of giving it to him tomorrow, I slip into the room with the open door, my senses completely overcome with his woodsy, masculine scent. It’s so heady, it makes me pause where I stand and just inhale.
Like a creeper.
A quick look around tells me he’s a fairly neat guy. The closet doors are shut, and the dresser appears organized and tidy. There’s a pair of shorts folded on the chair and some slip-on shoes beneath it, and all I can think is this isn’t the bachelor room I expected to see. I mean, there’s a reason my brother has a housekeeper.
Needing to get the hell out of here before he finds me naked in his bed—according to the internet, that’s happened more than once—I set the book on his pillow and l leave. Once I’m back in my own room, I shut the door and take a deep sigh in relief.