Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“I can’t move,” I tell him, looking at him as he comes out of the bathroom. “My arm feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.” He picks me up and carries me to the bathroom. “Where are you taking me? I swear, Markos, I don’t think I could go another round,” I tell him and then look up at his face. “Okay, maybe one more, but it would have to be quick and not like an hour.”
He laughs and steps into his tub with me and sets me down. The warm water washes over me, and the ends of my hair float around me. “Did you want to wet your hair?” He sits facing me; the tub big enough for him to stretch out his legs.
“I don’t even care,” I tell him. “Honestly, I feel like I’m high,” I tell him. “Maybe your cock is laced with some sort of drug, and every time I lick it or you stick it in me, the drug wears off.” He puts his head back and laughs, and I rest my head on the side of the tub. “I’m going to have to google that when I get home.”
“How is it you can get me all hot and bothered one minute, and the next, I’m laughing so much my stomach hurts?” He wets his face with water.
“It’s a gift.” I put my hand under my head, closing my eyes but then opening them and gazing out his window. “This view is crazy.”
“It’s the whole reason I bought the place,” he tells me. “Wall-to-wall windows.”
“Where else do you have houses?” He looks at me confused. “Well, Matthew and Max all have houses in Canada, so I don’t know. I was just assuming …”
“I have houses in Canada and in Los Angeles,” he tells me, and I look up. “I also have condos in Florida, San Francisco, Chicago, Greece, and Italy, and a house that I’m looking at in Montana.”
“Which is your favorite?”
“Greece or Italy. I love them both the same,” he says.
“Why?” I wonder to myself, not realizing I asked it out loud.
“It’s where I can be me. Where I can walk to the corner restaurant, sit down at a table outside, order a coffee, and just watch life pass by.” He smiles while he describes it.
“That sounds amazing.” I smile back at him, then look outside again. We sit in the tub until the water turns a touch cold. He gets up first and wraps a towel around his waist and then comes back, holding open another towel for me. I stand and walk into the towel and smile up at him. “Thank you, Markos.”
“For you, Vivienne, anything,” he says, and my stomach feels like it just flipped. I look down, ignoring the moment. Refusing to acknowledge what just happened, I tell myself this is getting out of hand and this will be the last time I see him. I walk to the front door dressed in last night’s outfit and kiss him twenty-five minutes later. I let the kiss linger just a bit longer than it should, knowing it’ll be our last. My lips are still tingling when I press the elevator button for down.
I look over my shoulder when the elevator gets here. “Take care, Markos.”
Chapter Twelve
Markos
As soon as the elevator door closes, I want to call her and tell her to come back and share breakfast with me. When I opened my eyes and saw that the bed next to me was empty, I had a semi-heart attack. Surely, she wouldn’t just bail in the middle of the night. When I heard little footsteps going down the stairs, I knew she was planning to do exactly that.
I close the door softly and walk to the kitchen to start my coffee. Looking over at the clock, I see it’s a little after eight a.m. I got maybe two hours of sleep, I think while I rub my neck with my hand and wait for my coffee to brew. I take my shot of espresso black, sipping it, and then hear the front door slam and heels click on the tiles. “Morning,” Tracy says, putting all her bags on the table in the middle of the room. “Did you just wake up?”
“More or less,” I tell her while she opens the bag of food she brought with her. If she would have gotten here five minutes earlier, she would have come face-to-face with Vivienne, and although I don’t hide that I date, I also don’t flaunt it.
“You look like shit,” she says, going to get her own cup of coffee and starting the machine. “Was it a late night?”
“More or less,” I tell her, grabbing a strawberry from one of the trays she brought. “I’m going to go get dressed. I’ll be back.”