Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Have you ever had braces, or are your teeth naturally that straight?”
I grin and laugh. “I had braces on the top but not on the bottom, but not to straighten them. I had dental surgery and had to have them on for six months.”
In goes my chip on top of his. “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done?”
Brodie cocks his head to the side as he considers my question, and it’s telling that he has to think about it for a few moments before he can answer.
“When I was a teenager, there was a night I wanted to skip hockey practice to see a movie that had just come out but of course, my parents said no and dropped me off at the rink. Me and my buddy Paulie stashed all our crap and walked to the movie theater, which was across the interstate, and saw the movie. We still weren’t back when practice was over, and my mother had a fucking fit.”
My jaw drops. “I would have been freaking out too. She probably thought you’d been kidnapped!”
“Yeah, she did,” he says with a mischievous grin. “I’ve never heard her so mad. She was pissed about it for a month.”
He drops his blue game piece into the grid so it’s next to his other one.
“What nonsexual thing do you think is sexy?”
I groan. “The list is so long I wouldn’t know where to start!” I say honestly.
“Just say one thing.”
I rack my brain for the sexiest nonsexual things and try to choose the one I’m going to say out loud. “Besides cologne or perfume or someone freshly showered…I don’t know. I find so many things sexy. Like a guy holding the door or putting his hand on the back of my seat when he’s backing a car up.”
His brows rose. “You think it’s sexy when a guy backs a car up?”
“Uh—yeah.” Who doesn’t?!
“That’s really random.”
I lift one of my shoulders as if to say, “yes, I know, and I don’t care” and slide my red chip in on top of his newly added blue one, slowly building a ladder in the game grid, hoping he doesn’t fuck it up by putting a chip on top of mine.
“Same question back at you. What’s one nonsexual thing you find sexy?”
Brodie has his remaining game pieces in the palm of his hand, and he clicks them, rolling them around in his fingers as he mulls this over.
See? I want to say. Not so easy, is it?
“I’ll echo everything you just said BUT!” he adds before I can act affronted that he poached my answer. “But I’ll add that I find it sexy watching someone read a book. Watching a girl braid her hair. Delicate hands with painted fingernails.”
My mouth gapes, and my memory jogs back to see if I’ve done any of those things in his presence. I make a note to myself to braid my hair later while he’s sitting here, getting some kind of hot and bothered knowing he thinks seeing someone read is sexy.
He plops his chip into the grid on top of mine, and I groan.
“Dammit!” I laugh. “Cockblocker.”
He looks over at me and narrows his eyes. “I see what you’re trying to do.”
Ugh.
It’s never any good when they know your strategy, but it also wouldn’t hurt if I had to remove an article of clothing.
Ha!
“What’s your favorite body part?” Brodie whispers as if he were embarrassed to be asking such a question.
“On me or on you?”
He blinks. “Of yours.”
“My boobs.” Obviously. I plunk my game piece into the grid, starting in a new spot so I can rebuild my ladder, abandoning the first one. “What’s your favorite body part—of yours?”
He rolls a blue chip between his fingers. “I don’t know. My hands, I guess?”
His hands.
Big, rough. Strong.
I hum. “Mmm. Yes, those hands. They’re a personal favorite.”
Brodie adds his chip to the board and leans back. “I win.” He crosses his arms smugly. “Told you.”
My mouth gapes again. “Wha…? How…”
I focus my eyes on the grid, brain doing its best to see his blue in a row but only seeing my red scattered ones. Shit. His four across blink and wink at me—taunting me.
“Are we still playing Strip Connect Four or no?” he reminds me in a subtle way that tells me he’s hopeful but doesn’t want to be aggressive or pushy.
Which only makes me like him more and want him to have all of my cookie.
“Suppose I have to pay the toll.” But what to remove first?
Decisions, decisions…
If I remove my shorts, I’ll be in my thong and I can roll around the bed with my ass out, fabric lodged up in my ass cheeks, taunting him. If I take off my sweatshirt, I’ll be in my white bralette, which isn’t overtly sexy but gets the job done.
I mean—it’s tits.