Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
My breath catches, and somewhere in my mind I’m keenly aware we’re on the stage in a community theater at the piano bench.
But somewhere in my body—or everywhere, really—I’m aware of how much I want him to keep touching me.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my voice needy, a plea.
“I won’t,” he says as he kisses my jaw.
It feels like a promise.
The other thing that feels like a promise? When he taps my thigh, tells me to stand, then says, “Get on me.”
It’s a rough, dirty command.
But a necessary one, too, as he adds, “Need you so fucking much.”
It feels like more than sex as I slip out of my panties and hand them to him, and he undoes the zipper on his slacks, freeing his erection. I straddle him on the piano bench, in the theater, under the lights, with no music playing but the notes in my head.
The refrain of “Fly Me to the Moon.” The romantic words, the promises, the possibilities. I feel them all as Sawyer fills me and fucks me and kisses me like everything between us is inevitable.
33
UNBELIEVABLE
SAWYER
I’m probably breaking a first-week-adoption don’t by bringing Chloe’s dog over after we leave the theater that night. But I don’t want to be without her—not after that rehearsal. Not after the way she fell apart on me on the piano bench.
I don’t want to be without her dog either. They’re a package deal.
We swing by her place and pick up Captain. Chloe changes out of her dress and tosses on leggings. She looks as sexy in casual clothes as she does in a dress and heels.
When we reach my home, Chloe says hi to Mister Dog first, then we let the guys meet in the back yard. Captain’s cautious at first and barks once or twice, but soon they chase each other around the yard, then a tree, then do that dog-bow welcome thing.
I wrap an arm around Chloe. “I think they like each other,” I say, my heart swelling at the way they get along. Sure, they’re dogs. It’s in their nature to pal around. That’s the premise of my business too. That dogs are friendly and social. Still, I’m aware that dogs don’t always like each other, so I’m happy to take the win.
“Me too,” she says, resting her head against me with a happy sigh.
I want to bottle up that sound, hold on to it. Instead, I press a kiss to her forehead, words welling up in my throat. Words like I’m so glad they get along, since you’re going to be here all the time. Or I’ll be at your place. Or we’ll be together.
But is it too soon to say them? It feels ridiculous not to since we’re already spending nearly every night together. I need to slow my roll though. It’s been a little more than a week since the first dance lesson, when she spent the night and I made her breakfast in the morning. Barely even a week and a half since she strong-armed me into doing the fundraiser.
How am I already thinking about all these next steps with her?
But you are. You can barely think about anything else.
That’s the thing. She’s top of mind, and the more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend.
As I watch the dogs play, I clench my jaw, trying to figure out how the hell I wound up in this spot so soon after getting out of a terrible romance. This is not what I moved to Darling Springs for. To fall for someone I work with. To fall for someone I have all these endless entanglements with. If we’re together, then all these boundaries I’ve built at work will be pointless. I’d go from Mister Serious Boss to the smitten guy who’s crazy about the woman who works five freaking feet away in a pink-and-white dog training nook. So crazy for her I’ve been leaving her roses and cinnamon rolls every day.
And yet, maybe I’m ready for those boundaries to come down.
I let out a long exhale, weighing that option.
Best to be sure though. I’ll give myself a few more days. Invite her to spend the night again. Get through the fundraiser. Then maybe ask her to be—I swallow roughly—my girlfriend, after we perform.
Yeah, that sounds like a plan. It feels…like a responsible one too. One I’ve considered from all angles.
I turn to meet her gaze and start implementing. “Chloe, want to stay over tomorrow too? And maybe we can go to your place on Wednesday?”
Her smile is teasing. “Look at you with all your planning.”
“Just trying to be efficient.”
She laughs, then pats my chest. “Right. All about efficiency.”
She sees right through me, and I think I love it. I love it, too, when she says, “And the answer is yes to both. But we should stay here. It’ll be better for Mister Dog.”