Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Why me?” he asks again, as if the last few seconds never happened, as if the reply I gave told him nothing, all humor swiped from his expression.
“I don’t know.” I return the look that searches my face for answers I don’t have. “Petra’s asked before, but I never wanted to. She’s never offered with a guy because… well, she knows I’ve never come with a man before.”
I can’t believe I told him that, but his surprise makes my embarrassing candor worth it.
“Never?” he asks, eyes wide.
I shake my head, a small smile teasing my lips. “Not that I’ve been with that many.”
“Guess I should feel flattered?”
I lean forward and punch his shoulder playfully. He grabs my fist, so small when his hand encloses it. Those talented hands that cast a spell on me first dancing across the keys and then caressing my skin. He gently links our fingers for a few seconds, his eyes clinging to mine before he lets me go.
I clear my throat. “Did you play sports?”
“Me?” He smirks and relaxes, pressing his shoulders against the wall. “Hell no. I played instruments.”
“Plural?” I tilt my head and study him. “Which ones?”
“Piano, obviously. Guitar, trumpet, drums.” He squeezes one eye shut, as if concentrating.
“There’s more?” I ask.
“Bass,” he continues. “And harmonica.”
“Wow.”
“My whole family’s preachers, singers, choir directors. They all sing and play. Most of them don’t even read music. I think I was maybe three when I started playing piano by ear, like just picking up songs I’d hear.”
“So you are a prodigy. Petra said as much.”
“When did she say that? When the two of you plotted to bring me home for a threesome?” He quirks a brow, and I can’t tell if, now that the sheets have cooled, he finds it funny or offensive.
“We didn’t plot anything,” I answer, the words coming out stilted. “Well, I didn’t. I had no idea what she had in mind until she whispered it in my ear tonight.”
“So you didn’t think I’d come?”
I hesitate before shaking my head. “Not really. We had a bet about you showing up, but… I didn’t know what she was thinking. No one ever does.”
“What was the bet?”
“Um, well.” I fiddle with the belt of Petra’s robe, sliding the strip of satin between my fingers. “Petra bet that you would show up and I bet that you wouldn’t.”
“You thought I wouldn’t come?”
“I mean… why would you? You and Petra don’t usually socialize in the same circles.” I shrug. “I didn’t see much reason for you to show.”
“Hmmm,” he grunts, not offering further comment.
“And I really wanted my laundry done for a month.” I pause to scowl at him. “Thanks a lot. Now I’m washing and folding Petra’s shit for the foreseeable future.”
“Laundry?” His brows lower, but his lips twitch. “You had laundry riding on me not showing?”
My smile breaks free as soon as I detect the humor returning to his eyes.
“What can I say? I love cleaning, but hate doing laundry.”
“That was really unfair of Petra to con you like that when she knew I would come.”
“How could she know?”
He doesn’t reply, just stares back at me like the answer should be obvious. His eyes make a slow journey down my body, barely covered by the thin robe. My nipples pebble beneath the silky material, beneath that heated perusal, and I shiver, despite the apartment still feeling too warm.
“I turned down a paying gig to come here tonight,” he finally offers, his voice low and his eyes set on my face unwaveringly. It feels like a confession, as naked as we were between Petra’s sheets.
“Why would you do that?” I whisper, the words almost strangled in the tightness of my throat.
He pushes off the opposite wall and crosses the tiny distance between us. When he cups my jaw, it sends my thoughts careening back to the way he held my face while I sucked his dick. His thumb brushes over my lips and they open on a heavy panting breath. He drops his forehead and presses it against mine.
“For you.”
His breath mists my mouth, but he doesn’t push into a kiss. He is a line of restraint, his hand on my face and our foreheads pressed together, the only places our bodies connect.
“I had to see you again, Verity. I didn’t plan to do anything. I didn’t want to steal Petra’s girl. I had no idea she had that in mind, but I’ll be damned if I’mma complain about the best blow job of my life.”
It takes everything in me to keep my feet flat to the floor; to not tip up on my toes and find out how he tastes. He kissed my breasts and my pussy as if I were a condemned man’s last meal, but according to Petra’s wishes, we never kissed.
“Would you want…” I gulp, lowering my eyes to the floor because looking at him feels like too much. “Maybe we could, ya know, do it again sometime.”