Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“So,” I say.
“So,” he replies.
“It would seem that one of us has some abandonment and intimacy issues that could do with a little work.”
“I’m happy to find you a good therapist if that would help.”
Patience is a great virtue. A pity I’m currently out of the stuff. “Okay. I better—”
“My pool is heated,” he says out of nowhere. “I don’t think I mentioned that.”
“What?”
“My pool is heated,” he repeats.
“Your pool is heated?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, no, you didn’t mention that before.”
He just looks at me.
“That’s nice,” I continue. “I can see how it would come in handy during the cooler weather.”
Without another word, he bends at the waist and tugs off his boots. First one, then the other. Same goes for his socks. Then he straightens and removes his T-shirt. Just takes a handful of the fabric covering his back and drags it off over his head. It’s amazing I don’t swallow my tongue. My fingers itch to touch. From his pecs to his neat brown nipples and the trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button to the waistband of his jeans. He’s giving me a heart attack with this show of skin. Perhaps this is how I die. It’s a few days early. But not a bad way to go.
“Ali, what are you doing?”
He crosses his arms over his perfect chest. “You had ‘skinny-dipping’ on your wish list.”
13
“You want us to go swimming?” I ask. “Now? With no clothes on?”
“It’s where this is heading, isn’t it?”
“I actually thought we were moving more toward me leaving as opposed to us undertaking any naked aquatic adventures.”
He grimaces. “Maybe I wasn’t clear, but I don’t want you to leave. Especially not when you’re upset at me.”
“Um. Yeah. You’re not exactly subtle.”
In lieu of a response, his fingers go to the top button on his jeans and damn. He needs to stop it with the striptease. Now.
I grab his hands and hold fast. “I would take it as a personal favor if you would please stop taking your clothes off.”
He peers down at me, and the side of his mouth kicks up. Oh, good. He’s happy again. My distress at his bare chest pleases him, apparently. And the moment I attempt to remove my hands from his, he starts back in on the zipper. His smirk is sly as fuck. Jerk. The backs of my fingers brush against his bare stomach and warm skin. A shiver runs through both of us. It’s like we’re connected. I can feel the heat radiating from him. With all of this on show, it’s also hard to know where to look. I settle for a freckle on his left shoulder. It’s lopsided and kind of cute. Like a little wonky smile.
“No one’s said that to me before,” he says. “Told me to stop taking my clothes off.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong—”
“You’re wrong.”
“Ha. You’re not funny.”
He lifts one thick shoulder in a half-assed shrug. “Matter of opinion.”
“Enough with the nonsense,” I say, gripping the waistband of his jeans and holding it together for dear life. “As I was about to say when you so rudely interrupted. Are you taking your clothes off because you lost the argument? Is this you trying to reassert control of the situation by wantonly flaunting yourself?”
“Of course not,” he says with much scoffing. “Why would you even think that?”
I just wait.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Maybe a little. But it’s more to do with what the argument was about.”
“Please explain.”
After a heavy sigh, he says, “You were right. I was jealous. You win, Lilah. We’re not just friends. Therefore, this is the direction we’re heading in, right?”
“As in both of us taking our clothes off? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” he asks with much doubt. “Seriously?”
“That’s what I said.”
At this, he snorts. “Let me guess. You’d prefer we take things slow, overthink it for a while, throw in some mutual pining, and see what happens.”
“No. I just think stepping back from this just for tonight might not be a bad idea.”
“It’s not a good one either.”
“Would it mean anything, us having sex?”
“Does it have to mean anything?”
“I don’t know. I’m obviously not averse to hookups, but this feels different,” I say. “Why don’t we give ourselves tonight to think this over? Circle back to the subject tomorrow over lunch or drinks or something?”
“Did you actually just suggest we circle back to the subject of us having sex?”
“Yeah...”
“Tell me you’re not working on a list in your mind entitled ‘Reasons Lilah and Alistair Shouldn’t Bang.’”
“That wasn’t the title I was going with, but there’s nothing wrong with a nice clear bullet-point presentation of the facts. And it was more of a pros-and-cons thing.”
“Right. Well, I think we should just fuck and get it out of the way,” he says wisely. Or so the sage expression on his face seems to suggest. “I’ll give you the great sex you’re after. You can tick another item off your wish list. Then we can go back to being just friends.”