Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
She finally identified the source of the racket as singing. Brand’s singing, to be precise. He was wearing earbuds, which were attached to a tiny iPod that he had strapped around his left bicep, and he was singing along to . . . it kind of sounded like Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.” Sam Brand had many talents, but singing was definitely not one of them. The man had a singing voice that would make dogs howl and small animals flee in terror. It was actually kind of cute how singularly terrible his voice was, especially since he was singing along with such gusto.
Some sixth sense must have alerted him to her presence, because his eyes shot open abruptly and he stopped his caterwauling immediately upon spotting her. His face lit up with a huge welcoming grin and he leapt—well, okay, semileapt, and winced while he was doing it—to his feet.
“Sunshine,” he greeted warmly, engulfing her in his arms and planting a smacking kiss on her lips. She laughingly pushed him off.
“You’re sweaty and you smell,” she complained.
“You don’t like my manly musk?” He sounded injured, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his tone of voice.
“Go take a shower.”
“Only if you join me,” he husked, grabbing a handful of her butt and lifting her to his straining crotch. She laughed helplessly.
“Brand, there’ll be no hanky-panky in the shower while you’re wearing that cast. You’ll get it wet for sure.”
“I don’t care, as long as I get you wet in the process.”
“You’re absolutely irredeemable,” she said with a wry shake of her head. “Go get cleaned up. Have you eaten yet?”
“Not since breakfast.”
“You shouldn’t skip meals,” she fussed. “And why are you so sweaty anyway? What have you been doing?”
“Working out. I need to rebuild my strength in order to keep up with you.”
“Do you think it’s wise to go back to your exercise regimen so soon?”
“It’s that or go fucking crazy. I needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t do anything too strenuous, just some stretches and core exercises. And it nearly kicked my arse, so I’m happy I got to it. Just shows how out of shape I’ve gotten.”
“I just don’t think it’s wise.”
“I have to get to it eventually. I’m not used to sitting around on my butt doing nothing all day.”
“Maybe you should clear it with your doctor first,” Lia suggested.
“It’s cute that you’re worried about me, sunshine. I didn’t think you cared.” They both went awkwardly silent after that cavalier statement, and Lia cleared her throat while trying to think of the best response.
“Of course I care, I would hate to see you reinjure yourself and add to my workload,” she teased, and he winced theatrically.
“Ouch,” he cried, clutching a hand to his chest. “You cut me, sunshine. You cut me deeper than any knife-wielding dickbag ever could.”
Lia giggled, the sound ending on an embarrassing snort.
“You’re such a drama queen. Go shower while I sort out your dinner.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”
“Quite.” He grinned at the concise answer before turning from her and deliberately pushing his gym shorts down past his hips and then over his tight butt. Lia couldn’t take her eyes off that firm behind as he stepped out of the shorts and cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Pity, look at what you’re missing out on.” He turned so that his body was in profile to hers, showing off the thick, impressive erection that curved up toward his belly button. He reached down and gave it a couple of long, languorous strokes before meeting her eyes and giving her a wicked smile.
“I’ll save it for you,” he promised, and Lia, her eyes glued to the movement of his hand, gulped and nodded.
“You do that,” she squeaked, sounding a bit like Minnie Mouse. He chuckled knowingly before turning away and strolling unhurriedly into the bathroom. Only after he’d shut the door behind him and Lia exhaled on a shaky gasp did she realize that she’d been holding her breath.
Wow, just wow. How was he so good at turning her on with so little effort? It was almost embarrassing. She shook herself, ignoring her beaded nipples and shaking legs, and made her way downstairs to make his dinner.
Brand insisted she join him in eating the delicious spaghetti bolognese she’d whipped up. Despite having prepared his meals before, this was the first time Lia actually found herself eating one of those meals with him, and it felt way too cozy and domesticated for comfort. Especially when he started chatting about Daff and Spencer’s engagement and Mason and Daisy’s unexpected visit. The small talk went against her list of rules, and she was reticent in her responses. She could tell that her unresponsiveness was beginning to frustrate Sam, but she didn’t really know how to fix the situation.