Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” Allie replied, color flushing her cheeks.
“Now that you’ve met the old man and the walking prenup he calls a wife”—the guy bounded down the last two steps and thrust out his hand—“I’m Isaac Burdan.”
I shook his hand, glancing over his short black curls, golden brown complexion, and blinding smile, placing him instantly from Allie’s pictures. “The choreographer. Nice to meet you.”
He laughed as his hand fell away, his gaze darting to Allie. “Is that all you’ve told him? How fascinating. Well, I’m off to find a celebratory drink,” he told me, then turned back to Allie. The softening of his expression told me the details Allie had left out. “You headed back to the beach tomorrow?”
She nodded. “I’ll be back before September for rehearsals.”
“I will count the days with bated breath.” He picked up her free hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Acid rose in my throat. “New York’s shine is but a glimmer until you return to make it sparkle again, Alessandra.” One last smile, and he disappeared into the crowd.
What the actual fuck?
“Sorry.” Allie stepped off the last stair, her heels bringing her nearly to my chin. “He can be a little much, but he’s truly brilliant.”
“Did he talk to you like that in bed?” My brow furrowed.
“What?” Her mouth dropped open for the slightest second. “And take that look off your face.”
“What look?”
“You look like you just caught a whiff of a trash pile in the middle of July.”
It was a pretty accurate description of how I felt. “Seriously, though. That’s what does it for you? Bated breath and glimmers? Let me guess—he doesn’t tell you he’s about to come, he declares that he’s arriving.”
Allie snorted but stopped tantalizingly short of a laugh, then batted her eyelashes at me. “And I suppose you’re more of the first variety? Have to warn a girl that she’d better rev her own engine because your race ends before the first turn? Or are you the silent, grunty kind?”
Oh, she had jokes, did she?
I yanked our laced hands against my chest, whipped my arm around her waist, and turned, pressing her against the wall on the far side of the staircase, just short of a plaque marking a piece of artwork. “Want to skip the rest of the gala and find out? I promised you hours, if I remember correctly.”
Her breath stuttered and her gaze dropped to my mouth. “We can’t.”
Not “I don’t want to.” Interesting.
“No need to rev your own engine unless you want to.” I lowered my head to hers. “You’ll come at least twice before I fuck you, Allie,” I promised. “I’m far from silent, and I know how to use my mouth to ensure you aren’t either.”
Her pupils dilated and the color in her cheeks shone red even under the pink lighting as she opened her mouth, then shut it.
“Now, should we go do whatever it is you do at these things?” I had to put at least a couple of inches between us, or these pants were going to start cutting off circulation to my dick.
She nodded slowly, and I backed up, keeping her fingers entwined with mine as we faced the growing crowd of people finding their seats.
“Our table is this way,” she said as we walked into the crush. “I should have warned you about Isaac. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t exactly hand over a list of the women I’ve slept with either.”
“At least none of them are in the same room with us.” She gave a fake smile and wave to someone who called her name.
“That you know of.” I dodged some drunk asshat who stumbled backward, then angled my body so he didn’t bump into Allie.
She looked up at me with raised brows.
“Relax. I’m kidding.” I shrugged. “Maybe, since I haven’t seen the guest list or anything. Why? Does the thought of me having slept with someone here bother you?” The aisle cleared, and we started walking again.
“Does the fact that I’ve slept with at least two of the men in this room bother you?” she countered.
A slight twinge of jealousy tightened my collar. “Are you planning on sleeping with them while we’re together?”
“This isn’t real,” she whispered as we passed another table at the edge of the stage.
“Semantics. Answer the question.” I tucked her close to my side when the crowd thickened again.
“No.” She shook her head. “Once I’m done with someone, I’m done. I don’t like things . . . messy. It’s one of the reasons I only date dancers. Same lifestyle, same schedule, same priorities. No mess.”
“We’re messy, and you like me just fine when you forget you still hate me.” Keeping my hands off her tonight was going to be fucking impossible.
“We’re messy because I lo—” She shook her head, and I stared at her long enough that I nearly collided with two women who weren’t watching where they were going either. “I cared about you. That was a mistake I never made again. Sex is fun—necessary, even—and keeping the same partner allows for a certain level of comfort I prefer. But I don’t get jealous because I don’t get attached.”