Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I want to ask him to tell me the story.
But he grunts and turns to walk toward his bed. “Stay with me if you think it’ll help you with the movie. Or don’t. It’s up to you.”
“I’ll stay.” I’m defiant about it now. “I’ll go get ready for bed.”
“I guess you’ll veto a sleeping-naked rule?”
The thought of sleeping next to Jordan naked does spark some interest in my gut, but I get the impression this is his way of proving a point.
“Hey, you do you. I’m happy to wear sweats, but if you need to be naked, no skin off my nose.”
Jordan drops trou. I try to remain unaffected by his dick, but it’s hard. Not looking, that is. Not his dick. I’m not even going to look at it. Nope.
The second I glance down, Jordan grins triumphantly.
“It’s already happening, I can tell.”
“What’s already happening?” Stop looking at his junk.
“You already like seeing me naked. Next you’ll be asking if you can touch.”
Not likely. Okay, maybe. “I’ll take that bet,” my mouth says without permission.
“Ooh, are you sure you should make another bet with me when you haven’t finished paying up for the last one?”
“Hmm, true.” I rub my chin. “But here you are, naked, and I’m still very much not jumping you, so what would the terms be?”
“I bet that by the time we leave to go back to LA, we will have had consensual, mind-blowing rebound-slash-friend-slash-newly-bicurious sex.”
“That’s a lot of sex.” I swallow hard. “What do you get if you win?”
“Orgasms, duh.”
I laugh. “What do I get if I win?”
Jordan pauses. “What do you want?”
What do I want? I have everything I could possibly need. I decide to go old-school mobster with my request. “A favor.”
“What favor?”
“Any favor that I can cash in at any time. No questions asked.”
“Mm, intrigue. I think as long as we can take murder off the possible list of favors, then I’m in.”
“Fine, take away my fun. No murder.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jordan asks. “I’ve only been using half my charm, baby.”
“I should’ve gone with ten million bucks. Easiest money I’d ever make.”
“Shake on it?” Jordan holds out his hand.
I take it, and his thumb rubs against the inside of my wrist, sending a shiver right down my spine.
“Deal?” Jordan asks.
“Deal.” And I already know I’m in trouble.
Chapter Ten
Jordan
I’m nearly asleep by the time Blake comes back into the room from getting ready for bed, and I picture him psyching himself up to do it. How long does it take to brush his teeth?
He lifts the blankets and climbs in next to me. “You’re wearing sleep pants.”
I’m facing away from him on my side, and I smile into my pillow. “You sound disappointed.”
“Not at all. I’m surprised. I was sure the sleeping-naked rule was a way to use your dick in your seduction techniques.”
Nope. I wanted to see what his reaction was. Other than a small flare of interest, and maybe hesitance, I can’t really get a read on him. Usually, it’s obvious one way or the other. Blake is confusing, and I like that.
I guess it’s true what they say—old habits die hard. I shouldn’t be encouraging this, but that doesn’t stop me anyway.
“You think I have a seductive cock?” I ask sweetly. “I’ll file that knowledge away for later. I need sleep. You don’t get to be as pretty as I am without at least ten hours a night.”
“Are you saying if you didn’t get that much, you’d look like a troll? Because I’d like to see that.”
“Well, there is one way you can keep me awake, but it will be the shortest bet I ever won.” I roll over to face him.
“Nice try, but no way am I giving up that easily.”
I don’t expect him to.
If I’m honest with myself, I kind of hope he doesn’t give up at all. Making the bet was a stupid, masochistic move on my part because even though every word I said to him is true—I love watching a newbie fall apart under my touch, my lips—it has burned me more times than it’s worked out. I just didn’t want to tell Blake that.
I don’t need the sympathy.
Right before I met Ben, I’d sworn off bicurious guys altogether. The high they’d give me wasn’t really worth the feeling of being used afterward.
But Ben … he was different. Or, I thought he was. There was a connection, a strong one, and the most romantic part of me—that very small, miniscule, almost nonexistent part—thought the moment I gave up the guys wanting to experiment was the one time the perfect one would land in my lap.
Okay, so Ben was grumpy and emotional a lot. He was broody and sometimes not nice, but it had to be a sign, right? He wanted more. He’s the only one who ever wanted an actual relationship after all the sexual experimentation.