Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
I tighten my fingers around what is, even by my standards, an impressive stretch of inches.
“You sure about that?”
“I do Ironman triathlons.”
“And I enjoy long walks on the beach. Are we just sharing random facts about each other now while I hold your dick, or did you have a point?”
“Not random. I do have a point.” He pushes my hand away from his pants. “Do you have any idea how much discipline it takes to do an Ironman triathlon?”
“I can only imagine a great deal, but I fail to see how that relates to us screwing this out of our systems.”
“A great deal of discipline, yes,” he says, barreling past my words. “And I take it to another level.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“When I’m training, I abstain.”
“Abstain?” I frown so deeply I’m sure I almost unibrow. “From what?”
“Sex.”
“Well, that’s just uncalled for. All that build up can’t be healthy.”
He laughs and shakes his head, his hand finding the sensitive skin of my nape.
“Fighters do it all the time.”
“For outrageous amounts of money, yes.” My voice thins to a breathy whisper as his fingers trace the downy hairs on the back of my neck. “Who voluntarily does that?”
“Lots of people do.” He drops his hand back to his side, depriving me of his touch. “My point is that I’m used to going without. I can go without.”
“But you’ve never had this. Never had to go without this.”
I’m done playing games. I grab his hand and slip it into the band of my workout pants, positioning his huge hand to cup the bare mound between my legs, willing him to penetrate me with at least one of those thick fingers. He doesn’t. A heavy arc of lashes falls to conceal his eyes. I don’t want him hiding from me. I want to see the lust overpower his resolve. I want to see want knock down those walls, but he doesn’t give me that. He takes his hand back and steps out of my reach until I’m left empty-handed. He puts a few feet between us before looking back at me, the same determination in those dark eyes and in the locked jaw.
“Dinner. Let me know when you’re ready, Sof.”
“Oh, I’m ready now. If you had put those fingers to good use and explored the landscape down there, you’d know just how ready I am.”
“I think the problem is you’ve been sleeping with boys who settle for just what’s down there.”
“Settle?” I give a short laugh so harsh it’s like a tiny razor in my throat. “Oh, I’m sure they don’t see it as settling. They’d tell you it’s the grand prize.”
“That’s the other problem. I think you actually believe that. Who convinced you the best thing you have to offer is in those expensive panties of yours?”
“How dare you?” I snap, eyes wide, brows jerked together.
“How dare you assume I’m anything like anyone you’ve ever had?” Irritation heats up his dark eyes. “Judging me by the assholes you’ve been with before.”
“They may be assholes, but they’ll have something you never will, apparently.”
“Well, that’s fine, because I want something they never had.”
“And what’s that?”
“Have dinner with me and I’ll show you.”
“These are the terms.” I set one hand on my hip. “We fuck or we don’t, but there’s nothing else on the table. Are we clear?”
“No, we’re not clear. I told you I want to get to know you, and that’s what I meant.”
“Let’s just skip the part where you pretend to find me fascinating and get right to the part where we fuck, you get to say you had Sofie Baston, and we go our separate ways. Isn’t that the end game?”
His brows settle into a frown low over his eyes.
“This isn’t a game, Sof. I want—”
“No, you don’t,” I cut in, words like a blunt instrument. “You think you want. It’s not happening.”
“So you’d date that quarterback, but you won’t even have dinner with me?”
“That about sums it up.” I sigh and roll my eyes. “Look, I’ll admit I’ve felt this itch ever since we met, and we can scratch it, but that’s all. No dates. No promises. No relationship. This is every man’s dream.”
“Don’t presume to know what I dream about, Sofie.” He steps close again, his body caging me against the wall, his breath on my lips. “Dinner or nothing.”
I’m through with this shit. He may be one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen, and his dick would probably thrust me into another stratosphere, but I’ve heard the lectures. I’ve heard him talk about following the fire and being incited to do something you’re passionate about. Beyond the bedroom, this man is more than I can handle. I’ll admit that only to myself. He’s good and brilliant and sees way too much. I truly think he does find me fascinating, wondering what’s beneath my guard, but when the layers finally fall away, in the end he’d wonder what he was even looking for.