Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
"He's jizz-tastic."
"Okay, I'm vetoing the next one."
He smiles. "It happens. Not a woman hating Spider-man either. But realizing I don't particularly like a girl I've taken home, yeah."
That's kind of sad. Really sad, actually. I don't usually judge Dare's habits. I'm not judging his habits now.
I grew up next door to his father. I get why he eschews commitment.
But I don't get why he jumps into casual affairs.
Isn't that what his dad does?
Really, I'm not judging him. If he's having fun, he's having fun. I assume he's straightforward with women.
But if he's not having fun, why is he doing exactly what would make Mr. Dickson proud?
"You're judging," he says.
"No."
"Yeah."
I'm trying not to judge. Really. "As long as you're safe and you're honest. That's what matters."
"Of course, I'm safe. I'm not gonna have unprotected sex with the kinda girl who'd have unprotected sex with me."
I don't even know how to reply to that.
"I'll make sure you're safe too."
"You really think that?" I can't tell if he's joking or he's hurt.
"Yeah, of course. If someone will have unprotected sex with you, they'll have unprotected sex with other people."
Oh. Well, that is reasonable. And less self-loathing.
Which is good. We're good. "I'm just surprised. I thought you enjoyed it more."
"Sometimes. Sometimes not."
"Maybe I need to help you find a girlfriend," I say.
"Maybe."
My stomach flip-flops. From the surprise. Dare actually considering a girlfriend? That's a career first. "Really?"
"Maybe."
"Oh, I can't wait to make a wish list." Okay, yes, a wave of nausea is hitting me at the thought of Dare dating seriously, but that's the stale air on the plane. Really. Why is the air so stale while we're boarding? We're on land.
"What the hell is a wish list?" he asks.
"The traits you want in your future girlfriend."
"Does she come with Prime shipping too?"
I ignore his joke and press my hands together. "She has to like tattoos, and as long as we're in Europe, she has to speak English."
"Am I moving to Spain?" he says.
"Don't tempt me," I say.
"Don't dare me," he returns.
He's not serious. "Would you really move to Spain?"
"If it's with you, yeah."
"Really?" This means something. A lot. But my brain isn't putting the pieces together. It's distracted by the subject at hand.
"They must have tattoo artists in Spain."
"You'd have to learn to speak Spanish?"
"Nah, I'll get by on looks and charm."
A laugh spills from my lips. We're being silly. I can do silly. I love silly. "It wouldn't be too different than now."
"Obviously." He lets his sleeve fall over his pinup tattoo. "I'd move wherever you asked."
"Like that?"
"What's keeping me in California?" he asks.
"Brian?"
"He'll visit," Dare says.
"Inked Love?"
"I'll visit," he says.
"The Pacific?"
"My top source on oceans says the Atlantic isn't so bad."
"The Mediterranean is gorgeous," I say.
"First stop."
"Yeah?" My cheeks flush.
"Of course." He pulls out his cell. "Should we invite your crush?"
My stomach turns. "Why would we do that?"
"Flirting."
"No. Of course not." That's our thing. How could he suggest that? "Never."
He smiles. "Okay. We can wait until after for you to have a little fun with him."
"I'm going to start right away?" I ask.
He motions to my cell. "There's time."
"Oh my god, Dare. We're wheels up in ten minutes."
"That's eight more than I need."
My cheeks flush. A vivid mental image fills my head—Dare, in his bed, unzipping his jeans, wrapping his hand around his cock.
It's too vivid.
Way too vivid.
"I know, I know. Not speaking to my skills. But I can go longer if I want."
"Not when you're alone?"
"Depends on my mood." His eyes flit to my cell. "Are you masturbating?"
Someone behind us snickers.
"You're asking me that here?" I ask.
"Where else would I do it?"
"Anywhere." Or nowhere. Nowhere is also good.
"Okay, I'll ask at La Sagrada."
The famous cathedral by Antoni Gaudi. Probably the most famous landmark in Spain. It is gorgeous. And a church. "You're the worst."
"So, here is okay then?"
Fine. "Not as often as you masturbate," I say.
"Maybe I like to wait," he says.
Why is this mental image even more vivid? "Do you like to wait?"
"You shouldn't assume."
"You're right." I shouldn't assume, and I shouldn't imagine. But I see it now—all that anticipation spread over his face.
His laugh eases the tension. "You're admitting that?"
It's time to tease. Not time to picture his o-face. "I'm normally right."
Again, he laughs. "Normally."
"Are you saying I'm wrong now?"
"Oh, no, Diaz, those records are sealed."
"No." I shake my head. "If I have to answer, you have to answer."
"How is this going to help me find love?" he asks.
Helping Dare find love… what a strange idea. "It's all connected."
He shoots me a bullshit look.
"How about you tell me your number and I tell you higher or lower."
"Once." For the first time in ages, I wanted to go more than once. I went to bed revved every night. I don't know why. But I liked lingering in the feeling, savoring the desire. It's bright and vibrant.