Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Ah.”
“But since you’re not a jerk, I didn’t need to escape.”
I cocked a brow at her. “The jury is still out on pervert?”
She lifted her shoulders and grinned mischievously. “The night is young.”
I gulped my ice water.
When my beer and her dessert arrived, April clapped her hands like an excited kid, grabbed a spoon, and dug into the mound of pinkish ice cream with caramel-colored sauce dripping down the sides. She moaned at the first taste, her eyes closing. “Oh God, this is so good.” Then she moaned again, even louder this time.
Jesus, that sound. It was sexy as fuck.
She stuck her spoon into the ice cream again, but this time lifted it to my mouth. “You have to try this. And don’t say no.”
I set my glass down and let her feed me a bite. She was right—it was delicious. And it would be even more delicious if I could lick it off her naked body.
“Good, right?” she asked happily. She took another bite for herself, moaned again, then licked both sides of the spoon, while I suffered in agony watching her.
Christ.
Was she doing this on purpose?
I shifted on the booth seat, trying not to think about my tongue on her skin while surreptitiously adjusting the giant bulge in my pants. Thankfully, she was either too buzzed or too obsessed with her ice cream to notice.
“The cherries in this are from our farm,” she announced.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Want another bite?” Then she started to laugh. “I know how much you like local cherries.”
Tipping back my beer, I narrowed my eyes at her, then set the bottle down with a thunk. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “You liked mine, didn’t you?”
“What?”
April laughed even harder and sucked on the spoon.
“Wait a minute. Wait a minute.” I sat up straight and blinked at her. “Are you serious? You were a virgin that night?”
“Hush,” she said, looking around, although we were practically the only people left in the dining room. “Yes. I was pure as the driven snow before you got me in the back of your truck.”
I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t want you to know, obviously.”
“God, now I feel like an even bigger prick.”
“Tyler, I can’t be the only rookie you initiated.”
“You were different.”
That made her smile. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have done it?”
I thought for a second. “Nah, I probably still would have done it. But I might have tried to make it last a little longer.”
She dug into the ice cream again. “It was pretty quick.”
I groaned again.
“But you were a gentleman, as far as I was concerned. And it’s not like I knew any better back then.” She started laughing. “I mean, after all, your nickname was ‘The Rifle.’”
“Because I pitched fast, dammit!”
“Oh, come on, that’s funny. Admit it.” She leaned over and nudged me with her shoulder. “And I was glad you were my first, despite everything.”
I ran a hand through my hair, sat up a little taller. “Good. But I just want it on the record”—I held out one hand—“I have learned some self-control in the ensuing years. And some skills. Some very valuable skills.”
“Duly noted,” April said with a nod. “Now let’s talk about your feelings.”
I frowned and picked up my beer. “Do we have to?”
“Yes. You’re very angry.”
“Don’t I have a right to be? You saw it tonight. I feel like I can’t turn a corner without someone telling me how great I was, what a shame it is that my career ended the way it did, or wondering why, for the love of God, I just couldn’t relax and throw the ball.”
“So tell them to fuck off.”
“I do. All the time.”
“But then you have to actually let it go.”
I exhaled. “That’s a lot harder. Because deep down, I’m asking myself the same damn thing.”
“Okay, so what’s next? Look ahead. If you can’t play ball anymore, what are you going to do to show everyone that you’re still a badass?”
Um, put my tongue between your legs? But I didn’t say that. What I said was, “I’ve got no idea.”
“Hmm. You need some clarity.”
What I needed was her naked body against mine. That moan in my ear. “You think?”
“Yes. And some inner peace. Deep down you’re craving it.”
Deep down I was craving a taste of her pussy, but I didn’t think I should mention it. “Okay.”
“Maybe you should try yoga,” she suggested. “Learn to find your center.”
The only center I wanted to find was hers. “Yoga? No way.”
“Well, we have to think of something to decrease your stress level. What about sex?”
I froze. “What about it?”
“Does it relax you?”
“You know, you don’t have to try to fix me. I’m fine.” And you definitely shouldn’t talk about sex—I’m hanging on to gentleman by a very thin thread here.
She sighed dramatically and held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop bothering you.”