Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
He finally gives up, and after a moment longer of standing under the water, presumably to wash all the shampoo off me, he pulls me out.
“Shit! Towels!” he snaps.
I finally open my eyes and laugh. “I think I’m rubbing off on you!”
He comes back into the room, dripping wet and still totally naked, and wraps me in a large, warm towel. “Then we’re all fucked.”
I smile and snuggle into the towel. Hot. Fluffy. Soft. Mmmm.
If he gets you towels straight from the dryer, he’s a keeper.
I follow him into my room, my eyes fixated on his butt as he walks. Holy crap, he has a nice butt. Especially when there are water droplets running over it.
Hello.
“You’re staring at my bum again, aren’t you?”
I look up and grin, unashamed. “It’s a nice bum.”
His expression matches mine. “Come here.” He grabs the towel from me, dries himself, then sits me on the bed. He climbs up behind me and covers my head with the towel.
I laugh as he rubs my head playfully, getting most of the wetness out of my hair. He grabs my brush from the floor and runs it through the wet locks before bringing the towel up again.
He repeats this three or so times and I giggle my way through it. When he’s finally satisfied that my hair is dry enough, he yanks the covers from beneath us and throws me back for a second time tonight.
He smiles at me and sweeps me into his arms. I tuck the quilt over us and snuggle into him, the warmth of his skin soothing to me as we entwine our legs and drape our arms around each other.
“Where’s Angus?” he says against my forehead.
“Out getting pussy. No pun intended,” I add when his body shakes.
“Good lad.” He tightens his hold on me, and I smile.
“You wouldn’t believe you had me against the shower wall not so long ago.”
Tyler laughs softly. “It’s what I’m here for, baby girl. I’ll fuck you hard and love you gently. That’s all that matters.”
Too true. I curl into him, savoring the feel of his skin against mine. His breath flutters across the top of my head.
“Love you, dirty Brit boy.”
“Love you, sassy American bitch.”
Yet again, Tyler Stone is navigating his way around a kitchen with ease. The guy is handsome as hell, fucks like a god, and can cook up a storm—it’s really quite unfair.
He’s also protective, almost to a fault.
If I have to tell him one more time that he didn’t impale the baby with his penis last night, I’m going to take the knife out of his hand and shove the handle up his ass.
Agreeing to dinner with his parents, in hindsight, wasn’t my smartest move. The moment I smelled coffee this morning, I had to make a rather swift detour to the bathroom. As it is, my toilet bowl and I are now very well acquainted, and I’ve broken up with coffee.
It was a sad moment, but considering that my stomach is still a little vile, I’m glad I chose to do it.
My relationship with my phone is also on hold, given Dayton’s newfound hobby of calling me every five fucking seconds.
I rest my chin in my hands and watch Tyler flip the chicken in the pan. “Did you tell your parents already?”
He shakes his head. “No. I wanted you to be there when they find out.”
“Great.” I sigh. I wish he’d told them before now. The introduction is going to be awkward.
Hi. I’m Liv, your son’s girlfriend. And also the mother to your future grandbaby! Rock on!
Tyler puts the oven mitt down and turns to me. He leans over the table and cups my face with his hands then sweetly brings his lips down on mine. “Don’t panic, okay? They’ll love you.”
“It’s kind of unconventional.”
“So add it to our list.” He grins. “Really, you sound surprised.”
I roll my eyes. “Not surprised. Wary. Nervous.” I swallow. “Nauseated.”
“Do you want some water?”
“Honestly, I’m too afraid to put anything in my stomach in case is comes back up and I vomit over your mom’s Jimmy Choos or something.”
There’s a knock at the door, and he laughs. “Good choice.”
I draw in a long, shaky breath when he walks to the door. I’ve always loved the open-plan setup of his apartment and how easy it is to move from room to room.
Now, I hate it because the door is right behind me. Give or take a few feet.
“Hi, Mum, Dad.”
I think I’m going to vomit.
“Hi, love. Is she here yet?” his mom asks.
I can taste the bile. Is it rude if I run out now?
“Yes, she’s in the kitchen. Come on through.”
Oh holy shit. I clap my hand over my mouth as the bile burns my throat. I mumble an unintelligible, “Excuse me,” and run past Tyler to the bathroom.