Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Seriously. You have no idea how unbelievably sexy it was to discover what was in your columns. I kind of went up in flames. I was like a GIF of a man on fire.”
She lifts her glass and clinks it to mine. “It was pretty sexy writing about Mister Sexy Pants. The times I got off thinking about you . . .”
I groan. We’ve got to get out of here ASAP, but first things first. “I noticed you had a list of fantasies in your columns,” I say, having memorized all those gorgeous lists.
She runs her finger along the rim of her glass. “I did.”
A serious relationship is a no-go. But tackling a sex list of fantasies with this fantastic woman who loves all the same things I do?
“Want to work through some of them?”
Please say hell yes.
“With you?” she asks, all innocence.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll spank you for that.”
“That’s on my list somewhere. Among other things,” she says, then leans in close to whisper in my ear.
Twenty minutes later, we’re back at her place. I’m on her couch, my knees spread, her face between my thighs. I spear my fingers through her messy chestnut locks.
Her lips are Come to Bed Red. She applied lipstick on the way home, and I’m wiping it off with my dick.
“Fuck, you look good, sunshine,” I tell her, grunting as she runs her tongue along my shaft, then draws my cock back into the paradise of her mouth.
I’m this close to coming again.
Then Veronica slinks a hand between my legs, tugs on my balls and presses a finger against my ass.
Holy fuck.
It’s a blizzard in my brain. I go blind with pleasure as my hips jerk up and I growl, coming down her throat.
I’m panting, buzzing, and not sure my feet will touch the ground for days.
But eventually, when I come down to earth, she’s smiling at me like the devilish angel she is. “Told you I’d make it up to you,” she purrs.
“You’re right. You’re always right,” I say, then I catch a glimpse of Trudy, since the door to the bedroom’s open. My girl’s made herself at home on Veronica’s bed, sleeping soundly on a pillow.
“I think my dog wants a sleepover,” I say, hope bouncing around in my chest as I wait, like a dog, for an invitation.
I’m desperate to curl up with Veronica and feel her against me all night long. And in the morning too.
“Is she the only one?” she asks, that same hitch of hope in her tone.
I gently tug her up and onto my lap. “No. I do too because then I can wake you up with my mouth on your delicious pussy,” I whisper, sweetening my invitation.
“Good thing tomorrow is National Have Peaches for Breakfast Day,” she says, and I crack up.
After we brush our teeth and say goodnight to our pets, I haul her into bed.
We dim the lights, and she shifts to her side. “You’ve already knocked off three items from my original top five.”
I count on my fingers. “I made you laugh, I made some noise, and I told you I’d thought about you all day. So we’ve only got two left?” I ask, offering all the prayers to the dirty gods that she’s got an endless list somewhere.
“Please,” she scoffs. “I made a new list.”
And I’ve got a new temporary lover.
22
He Rose to the Occasion
Veronica
* * *
Since Wednesday is hump day and I’m feeling a little sassy—or maybe a lot—I decide to surprise Milo. A few minutes before the shop opens, I pop outside with the chalk and make a declaration on the board.
I stand back and read my new slogan under the bright morning sun. I am seriously pleased.
Milo must catch sight of me through the window because he strides outside, question marks in his eyes. He scans the sidewalk, but no one else from the store is in earshot. “You look very cat-who-caught-the-canary-of-a-cock.”
I laugh, shaking my head at his ridiculousness. “Yes, the only reason I could be grinning is that I like your dick.”
He gives a confident shrug. “I thought so.”
I step aside and sweep out my arm to show off my handiwork.
National Hump Day. You rose to the occasion, right?
Laughing, he drags a hand down his face. “A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste, and you don’t waste it,” he says, admiringly.
“It’s not too much, is it?”
He scoffs. “No way. Business has been up since you started your campaigns.”
Business goes up today too. We sell out of roses in a few hours, so I have to change the slogan that afternoon.
Get tulips for the one you want to kiss, and yada, yada, yada.
I’m finishing up with a customer when a mom I recognize from the Little Artists class pops into the store. Ashlee’s on the marketing team at The Dating Pool, and I’ve met her once or twice when I’ve been to the offices, so our worlds already collided. “I could not resist. I have to snag some tulips for my wife,” she says. “Especially since the kiddos will be at your class tonight, which gives us a free hour.”