Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“The Orgasm Donor Twins?” Burgess rolled his eyes. “They don’t care about what anyone is saying unless it’s coming out of their mouths.”
“Oh yeah? Watch them next time.”
“No.”
Tallulah laughed.
“You’ve gotten me to agree to too many things tonight. You’ve hit your quota.”
“That’s fair. Thanks for coming to get me. I really appreciate it.” Before she could register her own movements, her hand reached across the center console and squeezed his bicep—and honestly, she’d intended a friendly lil squeeze, but when she encountered pure concrete in the shape of an arm, Tallulah frowned, thinking she must have grabbed onto something else by mistake, because this arm didn’t feel human.
Frowning, she molded the grapefruit-sized lump in her hand, only partially aware of the amused twitch of Burgess’s lips.
“I guess this is another thing I’m going to regret in the morning,” Tallulah muttered.
“Probably.”
Still touching. Why was she still touching? Her fingertips traced the rainbow-shaped bulge, top to bottom, like a kid riding a slide at the park. Wheee. “So this is . . . a result of the high-protein diet. Good to know. Good. To. Know.”
“Tallulah?”
“Yes?”
Slowly, he leaned in. And oh-so-casually flexed his arm. “I’m like this all over.”
“Oh.”
Their eyes met, locked, their breath accelerating in tandem. “You want to bring me around Boston on your adventures, good. Let’s go.” His face came closer, close enough to feel his warm breath painting her mouth. “You let me know if you want my bed to be one of them.”
Burgess hadn’t been exaggerating.
He really did know how to make a woman wet.
Tallulah had no problem becoming aroused by her own mental fantasies or the occasional trip to the X-rated section of the internet, but it had been a really, really long time since a real-life man had inspired that warm spread of moisture between her thighs. That hot, reckless flutter in the lowest regions of her belly. Her pulse thickened and sped up at the same time, that long absent ache of need, the one that required skin on skin, turning sharp and greedy in places that made her squirm . . . closer. She was squirming closer, her hand sliding from Burgess’s troublesome bicep to the collar of his shirt, twisting to drag him closer—
Both of their phones rang at the same time.
The riot of sound was so unexpected in the quiet intimacy of the SUV that Tallulah immediately thought they were being arrested. Surely those were sirens to signal a SWAT team descending on them to demand why she was about to kiss her boss for the second time tonight.
But no. Phones.
Who was calling them?
“Lissa,” they said at the same time, scrambling apart to find their respective devices.
Burgess fumbled his out of the cup holder first, letting out a blast of breath when he saw the screen. “Oh, thank God. It’s Wells.” He bolted upright. “What the fuck is he doing calling me at two thirty in the morning?”
Tallulah turned her screen in his direction. “Probably for the same reason Josephine is calling me.” Her pulse was racing now for an entirely new reason. “I hope something isn’t wrong.”
They both answered.
“Hello?”
Josephine’s dear and familiar face beamed back at her, a welcome vision of auburn hair and clever green eyes. “Hey! I knew you’d be awake. Where are you?”
Tallulah shifted guiltily. “Never mind where I am. What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Josephine shot a perplexed look at someone off-screen, and Wells appeared beside his fiancée suddenly, holding his phone in his hand. “Hold up, hold up.” His lips spread into a cocky grin. “Are you two together?”
“I’m hanging up,” Burgess snapped, doing just that.
“What are you doing together at two thirty in the morning?” Wells asked.
“She needed a ride,” Burgess near shouted from the driver’s side.
Josephine was failing to smother a laugh. “Ohhh. She needed a ride, did she?”
Wells and Josephine fist bumped.
“Okay, you two. Very funny. Burgess was gracious enough to put his beauty sleep on hold to come pick me up.” Tallulah turned so that she and Burgess would both be visible on their screen. “Long story short, you’ve got us both. Now what is the meaning of this?”
“Well . . .” Josephine looked at Wells with heart-shaped eyes. “We finally picked a wedding venue. And the wedding . . . it feels like it’s really happening now. I got so excited that I had to call and ask you to be my maid of honor. I knew you’d be out and I thought it would be even better—read, funnier—if you were tipsy. Obviously, I’m screen recording this.”
“I’m not that predictable, am I?” Tallulah stared at the screen through a gathering veil of tears. “You’re really asking me to be your maid of honor?”
“Yes.”
A couple of tears popped free and rolled down her cheeks. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.”
“Is that a yes?”