Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
The pounding starts again and my shoulders slump. Barney probably has a “pipe he wants to check” or a “ceiling panel that looks shaky.” Just my luck.
I fling open the door, my lips pulled into a frown.
“Barney, I already told you…” I begin, but then my words trail off because it’s not my super at all. It’s Troy Simpson, the handsome pilot who features in my naughtiest fantasies. He grins, those blue eyes glinting.
“Who’s Barney?”
I blink, suddenly aware of my messy hair and none-to-clean sweatsuit.
“Um, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I came by for a visit. Who’s Barney?” Troy asks nonchalantly, peering over my shoulder. I straighten slightly.
“He’s the superintendent. I thought you were him.”
Troy grins, those blue eyes flashing.
“I’m not, but I could be if you want me to.”
I stare at him, perplexed and titillated by his flirtatious manner.
“Troy, what is this about? Why are you visiting me?”
The pilot merely smiles mysteriously.
“I’m glad you remember who I am. Can I come in?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but the truth is that this man is breathtakingly gorgeous. He looms large in the doorway, almost filling it up entirely. His broad shoulders block out the light from the hall, and his chiseled features are utterly masculine.
“Okay,” I say in a somewhat grudging voice, stepping aside to let him in. The handsome man merely grins again and steps past me into my small living room. His giant frame makes the walls seem even closer together as he looks around.
“Very nice,” he comments. “I like the space.”
Meanwhile, my mind is racing. What is Troy Simpson doing here? I thought he was off in the middle of nowhere flying a plane like he always does. Troy may technically have a house in Medina, but he doesn’t really live here. Instead, the life of a pilot means constantly jetting off to far-flung places that only appear in movies. Besides, he never called me after that one time we met. So how does he even know my address?
I close the door and watch as Troy takes a seat on my sofa, dwarfing the furniture. He looks totally at ease, lounging on the second-hand item like this is his place and not mine. I put my hands on my hips.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but will you please explain why you’re here? At my apartment, when I never told you where I live? Because we don’t talk to each other? Ever?”
Troy chuckles, totally unfazed. “I got your address from Caitlin. She is my sister-in-law, after all.”
I shake my head in frustration. “Cait shouldn’t be giving my address out to strange men.”
He shrugs.
“I’m not a strange man, at least not to Cait. Plus, I was able to weasel it out of her when I promised my intentions were pure. And oh, by the way, I told her I’d be giving you these.”
Then, the damned man pulls a bouquet out from behind his back. How did he do that? How did I not notice that he had a bouquet with him all along? I guess I was so stunned by his presence that I never even noticed he was hiding something this entire time.
“But what are these for?” I ask, astonished. No one has ever given me flowers before, and I’m not exactly sure what to do with the gift, seeing that I don’t have a vase to put them in.
“It’s a thank you for the present you sent me,” he says with a grin.
I squint, utterly confused.
“But what present? I don’t even know where you live, so I couldn’t have had anything delivered. I haven’t even seen you for months! You must be mistaking me for someone else. Another girl, maybe.”
But Troy looks totally calm as he shakes his head.
“Nope, this isn’t a case of mistaken identity. It was you who sent me a gift,” he says, while pulling out his phone. “It was definitely a very thoughtful gift, shall we say.”
I shake my head, utterly perplexed, but then Troy turns his screen towards me, and my heart goes triple-time.
“See?” he says. “I got this gift from you. And this one. And this one,” he says, scrolling through the photos on his phone with a flick of his thumb.
My eyes go wide as I gasp, one hand clasping my chest as the oxygen exits my lungs. Oh my god! What is this? His phone appears to be filled with naughty photos of me where I’m completely nude. Not only that, but I’m playing with myself, my legs spread and open for the viewer to see. As he flicks through more pictures, my heart lodges in my throat. In one, I’m playing with my nipples as my other hand dips to the vee between my legs. Then in another, I’m clearly in the throes of orgasm, and Troy peeks at that one with a naughty smile.