Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
A lock of dark hair falls across his forehead. I remember the feel of that hair in my fingers. I want to touch him again.
I lean over and gently tuck it back.
He opens one eye.
“You awake?”
I close my eyes. “Nope.”
That earns me a chuckle and a teasing pinch to the thigh. God, but he’s sexy.
With a sigh, I check the time. “We should get going. Pick up Toni. I’ve got work to do, and I’m sure you do, too.”
He opens the other eye. “Thought you didn’t like the whole early morning thing.”
I sigh. “Normally don’t, but… well, you know.”
“What?”
“Hard to sleep next to…” I gesture toward his body. “That.”
Frowning, he looks down at himself. “What?”
“That masculine gorgeous perfection. Hello?”
That crooked smile. “You’ll give me a big head.”
I reach out and ruffle his hair. It’s gone a little adorably curly from the festivities. “I’ll make sure to insult you from time to time so there’s no danger of the big head.”
He nods soberly. “I’d appreciate that.”
And then before I know what’s happening, we’re back at it again, our foreplay gentle but no less perfect, and this time there’s only the faintest trace of pain when he works me to delicious, toe-curling orgasm again. It’s like he has a remote control that makes me climax and he knows just when to push that button.
“Let’s do this again sometime,” I breathe mid-yawn, thinking it might be helpful to have some clothes or something that I keep here in case of emergency. He’s just coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.
He nods. “Dinner tonight, and you go over everything you’ve found today?”
“Can’t tonight,” I say with chagrin. “Sadly, I have plans with the girls.” I need them to go over everything I’ve found, so we can begin closing in on finding the last of the information we need.
I swear he pouts like a little boy. Freaking cute.
“Sunday?”
“Can’t.” Another grimace. “Plans with my grandparents.”
And it’s way too soon in this relationship for him to meet them.
I think?
“Monday,” he says with a frown. “And if you have plans Monday, I swear I’ll kidnap you from the smoothie bar single-handedly and tie you up. You know you want that anyway.”
“My, my, impatient, aren’t we?” I tease.
He shrugs, stepping into his clothes. Today he’s wearing those swishy workout pants with a stripe down the side and a tee, and I’ve never seen a manly ass look better. “Never been a patient kinda guy.”
“I love that look on you. That ass rivals the hottest baseball players.”
“Do you? Does it?” He looks down at his ass. “Thanks.”
We eat breakfast and head to the shop to meet up with Madison, Toni and Prince. By mid-morning, I’ve got a pile of notes after talking with the social worker, and I’m pacing around while on the phone, actively trying to track Toni’s mom down, when Madison and Allie corner me at the back of the shop.
“Did you lock the door?” Allie asks.
“So did,” Madison says, all business. “Put the out to lunch, be back soon sign up.” She pushes me to a sitting position at my desk. “Are you out to lunch, girlfriend?”
“Huh?”
Allie’s eyes narrow and she pins me in place with what I think she thinks is a terrifying look but really she just looks like she’s concentrating on something really hard.
“Babe. We’re worried about you. Did you, or did you not, hand the man your V-card?”
I grin. I sigh. I slouch back in my chair and nod. “I so did.”
Allie jumps up and down, and actually shows off her former cheerleader skills by doing a cartwheel right then and there. She makes me laugh.
Madison hugs me to her ample breasts and squeezes the life half out of me. “I’m so proud,” she says, her voice all choked.
“Are you crying?”
She sniffs. “No, no, just got some dust in my eye.”
“Liar! You are so crying! You’re crying because I’m not a virgin anymore?”
“No, baby. I’m crying because I’m so fucking proud of you. You owned this. You didn’t just spread your legs for some douchebag date you met on Tinder. You melted the Miguel Santiago iceberg, made him buy you dinner, and made that man work for that gift you gave him.” She sniffs and wipes her eyes. “You don’t even have to give me all the dirty deets for me to know that in my soul.”
I hug her back. “Oh, honey. You make it sound so virtuous when you put it that way. But there was nothing virtuous about it. He was just… the right one.”
I know people have sex all the time. I know people have casual sex all the time. But when I put it this way… about him being the right one? It feels important, somehow. Like he wasn’t just some guy I fucked on a one-night stand.