Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“You don’t mind the weather? Surely, you must miss all that Florida sun.”
“The sun shines here, too.” I glance out the window to where the sun is just setting in a watery, orange haze. The spring days have been pleasant, but the sun has been little more than a yellow ball in the sky, lacking heat and intensity.
“What about friends? Have you made friends?”
“This is beginning to sound like a phone call from home,” I reply with a huffing chuckle. “I’m not fifteen, you know.”
“It’s hard sometimes not to slip into old roles, I suppose.”
“You’re not my brother.” Not even close. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” Not in the way he’s talking about. “What about you, Whit? London looks good on you.”
He doesn’t answer, though his brows pinch.
“Do you date very much?” I ask, not playing along.
“I didn’t ask you about your dating life,” he answers carefully.
“I assumed that’s what you meant when you asked about friends.”
“It was not.”
“Aren’t you curious?” I twist in my seat, mirroring his position. Okay, exaggerating it. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for my lips to brush his.
“Mimi,” he says, filling my name with a warning.
“I am. I am so, so curious. Especially in light of recent developments. You see, I have this insatiable”—his eyes flare—“curiosity.”
His eyes hold mine before dropping very deliberately to my lips. He leans forward, just a touch, and my breath halts, half in and half out of my mouth. I almost anticipate him moving closer, my body tilting of its own accord. I want it so bad I can almost taste it… when his head dips and his gaze slides to the house again.
“It’s going to be a buzzkill taking a date back there,” his low voice rumbles.
Dammit, Whit! He totally played me. I swallow and brush aside the moment, not ready to throw in the towel. “That was an excellent sidestep. I’m pretty sure that makes you the buzzkill in this scenario.”
“I think it’s better if we keep it that way,” he says as his eyes cut to mine. “In fact, if you want to work for me, I insist on it.”
“I’m not working for you right now.”
“Behave.”
“I am behaving!” I protest with a giggle. “Come on, Whit. Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn’t you have questions? Wouldn’t you be curious?” He doesn’t answer, and his expression gives nothing away. “Fine, you play the monster. I know better than that.”
“No, you only think you do.”
At his dark tone, something hot and sweet flares between my legs, though I silently congratulate myself when I carry on as though unaffected. “Do you think this whole hot and enigmatic thing will kill my curiosity?”
With a pained groan, he tips his head back. The long line of his throat makes everything below my navel tighten. It doesn’t matter that he’s probably pleading for divine intervention through the car’s fancy panoramic sunroof because that’s not where my mind has tripped. Tripped, skipped, and jumped its way to some dirty musing. In this scenario, I’ll be straddling him, his head thrown back and his hands balled into tight fists. I’ll press my lips to his throat to feel the ripple of his taut swallow and the vibration of his moan as I do strange, wild things to him.
Note to self: discover what strange, wild things I could offer.
Addendum: maybe explore porn for inspiration.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
His chin drops with the gust of a sigh, those dark eyes refusing to meet mine. Meanwhile, I rub the backs of my fingers over my mouth in a surreptitious drool check. How the heck is it possible that I’m turned on by his Adam’s apple?
“Go on, spit it out,” he says, resigned. “Let’s get it over with.”
“Really?” No drool, thankfully. “I should just rip off the Band-Aid?”
“If you must.”
“Is that your thing?” I ask a little too enthusiastically.
“Yes, because I’m the kind of deviant who enjoys having the hairs on his legs pulled out by the follicle.” He scowls. “No, Mimi, that is not my thing.”
“I’m not a child. I know that’s not your thing.” But now I’m wondering if that might be someone’s thing. “You know that’s not what I was asking. I was talking about what happened in your apartment.” More specifically, my orgasm. “Is that, I mean, I know you said you didn’t recognize me, but that only leaves me with more questions.”
“I don’t pay for sex if that’s what you’re asking.”
Could I pay you for sex? I’m tempted to ask.
He’d totally be out of my budget.
“I wouldn’t judge. It’s the oldest profession in the world for a reason.” I adjust my purse on my lap and then glance out of the windshield. One of the neighbors and his four-legged friend trots out of his front gate, his attention doubling back on Whit’s fancy wheels. I smile because the Labrador retriever isn’t so impressed, yanking his human by the leash. I take a deep breath. “Do you… do you often hook up with strangers?” It takes supreme effort to turn back to face him.