Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Zane would be mortified to know I so much as uttered a word, except you learn them from the best, and instead of Jude blocking me and logging off, he did the complete opposite. He laughed, deep and throaty. Then he complimented me on holding out for as long as he did. We quickly talked every time we played, traded phone numbers to text on our downtime away from the game. Which led us both to discovering our love for all things rock music: grunge, metal, soft, and hard. It didn’t matter. We’d send each other links to a song, we’d either agree or disagree, figure out if we wanted to see them live in concert and go from there. Then the texts came with pictures, that’s when things started to change. The heavy flirting, the slight innuendo, and then there was the recent video call. It’s probably why I feel like I’ve known Jude for years instead of the past month.
“Guess who?” Two hands cover my eyes, abruptly taking my vision away from me. I’ve been looking for this guy, in the hot Florida sun no less with thousands of other people at the rock festival we’ll be at for the next four days.
I don’t have to turn around.
I don’t have to look.
I don’t even need my sense of smell.
I’d know his voice in a busy crowd any day of the week. We set up a meeting spot within the festival. Cell phone service is shit when you cram two hundred thousand people in over the period of time we’ll be here. I really didn’t want to bring a clear plastic sling bag, though I’m also realistic. There were necessities, like a place to store sunscreen, a refillable water bottle, baby wipes, and my car keys. I thought about just tossing them in my car and using the keypad to lock and unlock it, then thought better of it.
I rock back on my heels, and when my back meets his chest, realization hits that he’s shirtless. My loose crop top tank does nothing to hide the fact that his muscles are everything I’ve seen through a phone, and light perspiration instantly coats the two of us. I decided to wear as little as possible the first day—black top, black jeans shorts sitting low on my waist, and fishnet stockings beneath them. On my feet are my black combat boots, which I will surely regret later in the day even though they’re old, worn in, and comfortable for the most part.
“Hmm, is it Malaki?” I joke.
“Woman.” His voice drops an octave.
“Oh, you must be Wes?” My first-time meeting with Jude isn’t going nearly as badly as I thought it would, and thank fuck for that. I had the forethought to pay for my own parking even though he offered to let me stay with him. Jude is staying on the grounds for the entire festival. Nope, I did not jump in headfirst. I played it safe. And I already have instant regrets along with a healthy dose of FOMO, better known as fear of missing out.
“Ronnie.” My name slips out on a grunt. My core tightens at the thought of him groaning my name while he’s burying himself to the hilt inside me.
“Okay, fine, that leaves the only option. Jude.”
“Fuckin’ finally. Jesus, thought I was about to have to fight off the line of men trailing after you.” I spin around, more than ready to see if his voice matches the body in person. He drops his hands from my eyes, coasting down till they land on the back of my neck. The high ponytail with a fish-style braid to keep it off my heated skin isn’t any protection against Jude’s calloused hands.
The backwards hat, the sunglasses, the lack of clothing on his torso, showcasing his well-defined chest, the dark gray shorts and low-top sneakers are nothing compared to the easy smile he greets me with.
Hello, panty dropper.
The light scruff surrounding his jawline and cheeks makes it even worse. His shirt is tucked into the back pocket of his shorts, and yes, I could tell by the way it swings with the breeze that barely cuts back the humidity roasting us on the black asphalt.
“Did you say men? Where are they? Are they hotter than you?” I check either side of his body, noting his back is just as defined as the front. I’m fucking cooked. There’s no way I’m going to be able to survive the next four days with both of us wearing hardly any clothing judging by the looks he sends my way coupled with the way he touches me.
“You wanna play this game, you’re fuckin’ on. I’ll bend you over, smack the sass right out of your ass. An ass I could pick out in a line of women, and none of them would be as hot as yours.” His statement should make me reel, turn on my heel, and run far, far away. So, why does it do the exact opposite, causing me to step closer to the man I’ve had a playful and flirtatious relationship for the last almost month?