Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Oh. A fling?” His voice is thick and gravelly, and I squeeze my legs together, because I can feel the rumble of it there.
Is he expecting me to elaborate? I’m not planning to, but my mouth decides to fill the silence, even though my brain is begging it to stop.
“I mean, of course, it would never work, because there are two of you with me, and Sadie doesn’t know that. There’s no privacy, not that anyone’s looking for privacy. And you’re individuals. You’re not the same person, and I could never …”
I’m looking into Miles’s eyes while I babble, hypnotized, frozen in place like I’m being held captive in tractor beams.
He’s looking a little bit stunned himself.
And then he kisses me. Of his own free will. Without any relatives here urging him on.
One of his hands softly brushes hair back from my face, while the other tips my chin upward. His lips press to mine, lightly at first, then with more pressure as I open to him.
I feel, rather than hear, a sigh escape him as he pulls back less than an inch. Everything inside me is tingling as he presses in again, and I’m vaguely aware of “Show Me Love” playing before my entire focus narrows to just the two of us.
My hand strokes at his beard, eager to take advantage of the opportunity to touch it. Then his shoulders, and his biceps bulging out from that t-shirt that’s every bit as soft as I thought it would be. I reach up and bunch up a bit of that shirt in my fist, my hand right over his hard chest, and I swear I can feel his heart pounding.
He pulls back and comes in at another angle, claiming my lower lip before his tongue brushes across it, and oh fuck, I’m suddenly wet for him, and my breath is going shallow, and I’m getting far too carried away for a public place.
Reluctantly, I press into his chest, a small signal to stop, and he takes it immediately, his eyes dark when he looks into mine.
“Sorry.”
I stroke his cheek one last time. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. Especially not when you kiss like that.”
That makes him smile, and desperately makes me wish I hadn’t stopped him. Or that we were back at the hotel room—but Max would be there. Why is nothing simple? But maybe it’s best that it’s not simple, because I was about to head down a path that I know I’d regret.
“This is probably a bad idea.” I pull back another inch.
“Yeah, a bad idea.” Miles keeps his eyes locked on mine, neither of us sounding like we believe what we’re saying.
All at once, I realize I’m being selfish, talking about flings and kissing him. Miles has his brother to think about. If things are complicated on my end, they’re even more complicated for him.
I have no idea how Max feels about me, and maybe he wouldn’t care if Miles and I got involved—Max is flirty with me, but he’s flirty with everyone, so who knows?—but I don’t want to risk coming between the two of them.
CHAPTER 31
MAX
After a long, frustrating day of work, nothing beats lounging by a pool with a beer in hand and a beautiful woman by my side. Especially when that woman is Callie, looking ridiculously hot in a cherry red bikini that’s tied with little strings high on her hips.
I want to tug at those strings with my teeth.
She had the nerve to come out of the bathroom after she’d put it on, and ask Miles and me if it looked okay on her. If it looked okay! Neither of us could speak, until she started to turn around to go back into the bathroom, and we each drooled out a long string of compliments that made her cheeks blush.
The memory of that pink shade on her skin has me fantasizing about the color of her nipples. It doesn’t help that they occasionally go hard and poke into the fabric of her bikini top.
Unfortunately, Callie and I aren’t alone. We’re surrounded by her family at a party being held at one of the resort’s smaller pools. There’s an open bar, servers passing finger food, a deejay spinning classic summer tracks, and it would all be perfect if Callie weren’t so obviously ill at ease.
She was fine until her mom came over, directing a look of displeasure at Callie’s swimsuit before rattling off a list of concerns about the event, from the flavor of the shrimp canapes to the music selections, as if Callie were responsible for any of that.
Now, Callie’s taking long sips from her piña colada while she watches her mom across the way flirting with Mr. Hargrove. You don’t need to be a body language expert to figure out that the woman is throwing herself at him, or at least trying to. He doesn’t appear to be buying what she’s selling, though.