Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
After visiting his sleek castle, I really don’t need him wondering how I survive in this hole in the wall.
Catness rolls across my bed with a loud yawn like he agrees, plastering more thick grey fur on my favorite blanket.
“Dude. You don’t need to rub it in,” I say, stroking his head as I walk past to finish cleaning up.
At seven on the dot, I see him arrive in a ride that’s way too polished for anyone else here. A Tesla SUV, decked out in customizations that would bankrupt me.
I text that I’m coming and dash outside, cursing the evening rain that instantly hits my shoulders.
The drizzle does its best to deflate my curls, but I’m inside soon, cushioned in the sort of luxury I’ve only seen in my dreams.
The dashboard looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie. He presses a button on the huge screen and heat pulses up through my legs.
As for Dexter himself—
God. This man must moonlight as a model.
Dark hair brushed back, navy shirt, tan jacket fit so tight to his shoulders it should be illegal in all fifty states.
He’s good enough to eat without a speck of sugar in his health-freak system.
There go my doubts again.
Who in their right mind would ever believe he’s voluntarily dating me?
I cough loudly, rubbing my palms on my thighs to try to calm down.
My heart feels like it’s ready to splash across the windshield, but whatevs.
I’ll live.
I’ll survive tonight.
It’s not like the last time we were together, the sexual tension was flying off the charts and I was waiting for him to throw me over his desk or anything.
It’s not like he flashes me a quick smolder, hinting that a small, horny part of him might want to finish what we started.
It’s not like my imagination is a startled horse, tramping the normal, sane thoughts I should be having.
We’re just heading out on a date with my love and idol.
This is peachy.
“Hey,” I say, my voice irritatingly breathy. “Thanks for the ride.”
I half expect him to make a snide comment about my building or the area we’re driving through—maybe about being glad he hasn’t been mugged yet—but he just glances at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
“You’re welcome. You look good tonight.”
Oh, wow. So I’m getting nice Dexter today.
That should probably comfort me or make me feel even a little relaxed, but instead my heartbeat notches up.
I’m almost wishing for that asshole comment that never comes. Anything to remind me why I don’t like him.
“Thanks,” I say. “Um, you too.”
Nodding, he uses the turn signal to fight through traffic, and damn, I like him a little more for it.
“Sorry about my brothers barging in last time and the hasty exit. We had business,” he says. “Believe it or not, Patton sincerely liked you.”
“Well, I liked him.” I smile, laughing at the instant scowl that storms his face. “I mean, not enough to do a fake paid relationship or anything. Unless he pays better than you.”
“Careful, Sweet Stuff,” he growls. “You played right into his hands. He’s a born charmer and he likes using his powers for evil. Never misses a chance to show off.”
I laugh and it hits me then.
When Dexter’s not scowling, Patton isn’t the only charmer, but that’s a thought I’m not entertaining. Instead, I just examine the enormous screen to the right of the steering wheel, where a map plots our route to Nana’s house.
“This is pretty impressive. I like all the glass in here.”
“I should probably apologize for what happened that night,” he interrupts. Probably a good thing—I was about to say something inane. “Back at the office, I mean.”
“What, your brothers? You already did and it’s cool. Though I’m not sure your older brother likes me very much.”
“Archer likes about three things in life and two of those are his son and beer. The other involves tearing me a new asshole.” Dexter sighs, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles bulging before he relaxes. “I was talking about our dance, Juniper.”
Oh, crud.
“Oh, sure.” I clench my hands together. “But you did it to make a point, didn’t you? It basically worked…”
“Maybe so, but I’m not doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. I overstepped the line. Shit, if Archer and Colt hadn’t shown up when they did, I might’ve—fuck, never mind.”
Oof.
Just like that, I’m dizzy again, my blood heating by the second.
If only he had done something truly unspeakable.
Then I could tell him I never want it to happen again.
We could move on, and somehow that feels easier.
But I can still feel his hand against the small of my back.
I still feel the hardness of his broad chest against me like a shield.
I still remember what it felt like for his breath to brush across my lips like temptation itself, and to have him right there, so close and so kissable it hurt.