Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“So do it,” he said. This time he kissed my neck with an open mouth, sucking gently, a warm and wet rush.
Fuck, I could have so much fun with this man.
“You are a little bag of surprises, aren’t you,” I said, my voice gravelly. But I pulled in a breath, gathering my strength, and guided him backward, making more distance between us.
When he looked up at me again, my heart almost broke clean in two. His expression held a world of disappointment. I wondered if he was always like this—his feelings showing so easily on his face, his eyes unable to hide a damned thing.
“You don’t want to?”
“No, you don’t want to,” I said, taking a deep breath in. “I’m just protecting you from your own bad decision.”
He furrowed his brow. “Bad decision?” he asked. He adjusted his cute little leather bag before arranging the bulge in his pants uncomfortably.
“I’m not letting you make a mistake with me tonight,” I said. “You are obviously a sweet person, clearly doing something you’re going to regret.”
“I’m not going to regret it,” he said. “I want you.”
“You just told me in the bar that you don’t want a hookup,” I said. “And unfortunately for you, all I want is a hookup.”
The look of sorrow on his face was just about enough to make me melt. Christ, a guy like him could get me to do anything, if he knew he had the power.
“Listen,” he said. “I have about twenty hours left before I pick up my kids again. I’m free for the first time in my adult life. I feel like I haven’t done anything new or fun or exciting in months. And you came up to me in the bar, all… irresistible, and I fucked up telling you no, okay?”
I was silent for a moment, watching him. “Irresistible, huh?” I said finally.
“Oh, shut up, you know you’re probably the hottest guy in this entire town, Luke.”
I couldn’t keep a small smile from my face. “Is that right?”
Cam got a little bashful, scratching the back of his neck. “You look like the hot, hired contractor in porn videos. The guy who steals everybody away from their spouses. I didn’t actually know guys like you existed.”
I let out a laugh. “Okay, now you’re just laying it on thick. But I appreciate it.”
I wasn’t totally blind. I knew that I wasn’t ugly. I had a fit body, and plenty of guys had told me that I was hot. But I still liked hearing it from Cam. Everything he said seemed like a confession, in a totally adorable way.
“I just want to have a fun night. And I know I should have taken you up on your offer. I just have no fucking clue how to go back into the world of dating and hookups.”
“Tell me about it.”
That one really hit home. Liz had been trying to get me “back out there” for a while now, and half the time, I felt like an alien. My years in the Marines were lonely at first, and then devastating near the end. When I got back, I was completely isolated. I learned how to be truly alone, silently grieving a life I would never have, waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat most nights. I had barely any family, and the ones I did have were distant and didn’t communicate.
After a couple of years of being back, sex became easy. Hookups weren’t hard to find, and when I wanted to, I could usually find a hot guy to bring back to my bed. But any sense of real connection was like a distant memory.
I was damaged goods. But at least by now, I’d learned how to live with that fact.
And in his own way, I could tell that was how Cam felt right now, too. Damaged goods.
I bit my lower lip, nodding once at him. “Okay. Get in the truck.”
“Fuck yes,” he said.
“We’re not hooking up,” I told him, giving him a pointed look.
One side of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Right. Totally. No hooking up.”
“I mean it,” I said, but he was already doing his happy little walk over to the passenger side of the truck. “We aren’t.”
“This thing is amazing,” he said, running his hand along the side of my pickup. “When is it from?”
I knew I was making a mistake inviting him back to my place, but I couldn’t help but feel for the guy. I got in on the driver’s side and he sank into the passenger side.
“It’s from ‘94. Belonged to my dad, and I fixed it up when I finally got out.”
“Got out?” he asked.
I started the engine, the familiar rumble starting up underneath me. “Out of the military. Four years ago,” I said.
“Oh. Right.”
“I like this old thing. Breaks down way too much, but it’s better than those,” I said, nodding to a little electric Honda that was parked in the spot next to me. “Every car looks like that these days. Like a plastic toy.”