Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Whatever,” he says flatly. “I don’t want to be put in that position again, okay?”
“What position?”
“Where I have to defend your honor.”
My jaw drops. “I didn’t ask you to! You’re the one who decided to throat-grab that jerk. Granted, he had it coming—”
“He wouldn’t have opened his fool mouth if you hadn’t attacked his girlfriend,” Fitz cuts in. He shakes his head at me, scowling deeply. “I don’t like to fight, Summer. I learned a long time ago that problems don’t need to be solved with fists.”
“He groped Brenna,” I remind Fitz. “He deserved a fist.”
I can tell from his inflexible expression that he doesn’t agree. In Fitz’s mind, I forced him into a bar fight, end of story.
I turn on my heels. “I’m going back inside.”
“No.”
With an incredulous look, I spin around. “Are you serious right now? I’m doing what you want! You keep telling me to go inside.”
“Changed my mind,” he barks. “I’m taking you home. You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”
“I caused trouble! What about the maniac who dumped water all over Brenna? Or her sleazy, gropey boyfriend? I cannot believe you’re blaming me for anything that happened in there!”
He takes a step forward and I whip both hands up in a martial arts pose. I took three months of karate when I was twelve. I can take him.
“If you throw me over your shoulder, I will scream my bloody lungs out,” I warn. “It’s not my fault you decided to punch someone tonight. Deal with the consequences of your own actions.”
Dark eyes blaze at me. “I wouldn’t have to deal with these consequences if you hadn’t gotten your panties in a knot over some silly girl who wasn’t worth your anger.”
Just like that, my body reacts as if someone cranked my internal arousal meter up to Danger: Orgasm Imminent. A guy as sexy as this one isn’t allowed to say the word panties. Because now I’m imagining a variation of that sentence. In my head, I hear his deep voice rumbling, “I want to rip your panties off with my teeth, Summer.”
“Don’t you fucking look at me like that.”
My gaze jerks toward his. Okay, the words aren’t the same, but the growly rasp is exactly what I’d heard in my head.
“Like what?” I ask weakly. My pulse has gone from zero to a million in a split second, making my knees wobble.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He hisses out a breath. “And you need to stop it.”
“Stop what?”
He groans. A frustrated, animalistic groan that sends a bolt of heat between my legs before spreading outward to set every square inch of my skin on fire. I’m no longer feeling the cold. I could be buck-naked in the Siberian tundra, and I’d still feel like I was going up in flames. I thought I’d known what lust felt like, but I was wrong.
“Stop playing with my damn mind.” The words are tortured, shaky. “One day you’re flirting with me, the next you’re cuddling with Hunter.”
Guilt pricks into me. Crap. I forgot about the night Hunter and I snuggled. Fitz knows about that?
“One day you’re calling us best friends, the next you’re standing in front of me looking like you want my dick in your mouth.”
My core clenches with an ache so powerful I almost keel over. Oh my God. That is a visual I do not need right now.
He shakes his head before dropping his gaze to his scuffed boots. “I don’t like mind games and I definitely don’t like drama,” he mutters.
“Fitz.” Wariness curls around my throat. “What are you actually mad about right now?”
His jaw clenches tight. For a moment I don’t expect him to answer, but then he mumbles, “You could’ve gotten hurt in there.”
Surprise jolts through me. That’s what this is about? He was worried for my safety?
“But I didn’t,” I assure him. “Trust me, I know how to handle myself. I’m scrappy.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I shake my head irritably. “Why couldn’t you say that from the start? Summer, I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt. There. Easy. Instead, you shout at me like a maniac and then act like there’s something wrong about me thinking you’re hot when you’re angry?”
Slowly, he lifts his head.
I suck in a breath. He levels me with a hot, needy look that has me desperately squeezing my legs together. The throbbing is back, and it’s worse now. Nobody has ever looked at me this way.
“You think I’m hot when I’m angry?”
“Yes, I do. You were sexy-shouting and it got me going. So sue me.” I glare at him. “Just because you’re not attracted to me doesn’t mean I’m—”
“Not attracted to you?” he interrupts incredulously, and the next thing I know he’s snatching my hand and placing it directly on his crotch. “Feel this? This is what you do to me. You make me hard. Constantly.”