Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
We didn’t warn each other. My orgasm crashed into me the instant he groaned the way he did right before he came, and then I was drowning in bliss again. Cold chills and heat waves rocked through me, leaving me a listless, panting, shuddering pile on the mattress. With a wet spot I’d like to avoid.
“Fuckin’ hell…” He pressed his forehead between my shoulder blades and breathed heavily. “Your body, darlin’…”
I exhaled a chuckle, then winced when he pulled out from me.
“Christ, that’s sexy.” He swiped the pad of his finger over my asshole, and of course that wasn’t enough for him. He had to finger-fuck me a little. “My boy’s all wet inside now.”
Oh my God. I laughed, whined, moaned, and cursed—he couldn’t say that to me now when I was so beyond spent I had no idea how we’d get to the store. We had to stock up before Colin and Sam came over.
“Save that for next time,” I managed to get out.
He chuckled warmly and pulled me back against his chest. “Good mornin’ to you too. Let’s take a quick shower before we head out.”
Right. I just had to make sure my legs could carry me.
An hour later, we were walking up and down the aisles of Ralph’s. We’d filled the cart with Colin-approved snacks for his lunch boxes, ready-to-microwave meals from the deli for the days we acted like we didn’t need to have food delivered all the time, cleaning supplies because the house looked like hell from last night, and all the frozen pizza our hearts desired.
I was a bad New Yorker, but I actually really fucking loved frozen pizza.
I had Sam and Casper on my side. Colin and Jake were Team Deliver.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I hoped it wasn’t Sandra. I’d told her I would be home around three. She obviously hadn’t been interested in coming to the party, so she was at home with the kids.
Thankfully, it was just Zach who’d texted.
Hey! Just wanted to say thanks for a great party last night. And also, are you by any chance at Ralph’s now? (Stalkery explanation: I was getting gas next door and spotted the Condor Chicks sticker on your car.)
I snorted a chuckle and texted back.
I’m inside with Jake. Yeah, last night was awesome. I hope your hubby isn’t too hungover.
Zach and his man Henry were semi-new friends we’d met through Nikki. Zach was some type of model for the makeup brand Nikki’s boss ran, and it was from Zach we’d gotten the idea for our next docuseries project.
Given my…situation with Sandra…I hadn’t dared take on a project that involved any major traveling. Which was why we’d stayed on the West Coast lately, not counting a few trips to New York. We’d focused on selling international rights, concluding another Nomads season on our YouTube, pushing Off Topic to a broader audience, and publishing a coffee table book about LA food-truck culture. It was hitting the market in February, and Jake was adorably nervous about it.
“Should we buy more Cocoa Puffs?” Jake asked, holding a box. “Nikki wants me to eliminate sugar from the kids’ breakfast.”
“Then you shouldn’t. We’ll listen to Nikki,” I said firmly.
“All right, but they’re delicious.”
“And full of sugar.”
Jake was disgruntled. Even more so when I picked up a box that screamed “All bran” and “Whole grain.”
“There you are!”
We looked up toward the end of the aisle, and there was Zach.
“Am I missing something?” Jake raised a brow at me.
I shrugged. “He texted and thanked us for the party last night and mentioned he was outside.” As Zach came closer, I turned to him and jerked my chin. “Hey. I’m a little offended you don’t look dead.” He’d been wasted last night.
“Aww, thank you.” He grinned. “Anyway, there’s no easy way to approach this, so I’m just gonna blurt shit out in true Zach fashion.” But before he spoke another word, he looked around to make sure we were alone. What the fuck? “With discretion being a thing and all, is uh… I mean…the two of you…?” He gestured between us and lifted his brows.
He wasn’t imply— I mean, was he? Oh God. No. No, no, Jake and I were 100% discreet. Absolutely no one knew we were seeing each other in private, not even Nikki, who was the person Jake was the most honest with when it came to therapy and whatnot. Aside from me, obviously. No one knew.
I noticed Jake had tensed up next to me.
I decided to play dumb. “The two of us what?”
Zach pursed his lips and eyed us. “Okay, I respect that. I won’t push. But metaphorically speaking, two hot guys dressing up as Simon and Garfunkel and singing ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ together is not only cute as fuck, it also raises some questions, especially if the hot guys spend the whole night attached at the hip. I’m just sayin’. But if I’m totally out there… I mean, I know you guys are close and all—so if I’m just standing here making a complete fool of myself, it was Henry’s idea.”