Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
But as the best things in life have a way of going, it’s over too soon. A ten-minute ride, gone in the blink of an eye, and my high-rise apartment looms overhead.
“Can I steal you for a while, or do you need to rush away to save the world again?” I crawl my way off the back of his bike slowly, and he follows, answering my question without needing to say it.
“A few minutes couldn’t hurt.” Hush’s lips tick up in a half smile, enhancing the intense glow of his emerald gaze. “You need help with something or…?”
“Company.” From the front façade of my six-story apartment building, only three lights are on. That means once Hush leaves, it’s another quiet night in my bedroom with thoughts of Hush and boredom, my only companions.
Of course, entertaining those thoughts could bring me momentary respite from the emptiness, but that can only go on so long. At some point, I want to feel his hands traveling across my body, his breath caressing my skin, bathing in the woody cologne he wears, and soaring to new heights of pleasure only he can deliver.
God, I need this.
“I’m not much good at being company.” Hush casts his eyes to the sky, where a few of the brightest stars still manage to pierce through the light pollution surrounding my building. “Talking isn’t my strongest trait.”
Before he can bring himself down any further, I swing my arm around his again. This time, he doesn’t stare at it quizzically, accepting it as if it’s our new normal, which, if it were up to me, it would be.
“Who says we have to do any talking?” I ask, scanning the side of his face to read any emotions he won’t be able to convey with words.
But for the first time since the night we met, Hush’s emotions bubble straight to the surface. His head snaps back in my direction, mouth agape and eyes wide at the implication of my comment. He stays like this, frozen in time for a good long while, trying to process what’s on offer.
“What do you propose instead? Because trust me, if it’s cards, you really don’t want to open that rabbit hole.” His stunned expression gives way to a smirk.
“Only card game I’m good at is strip poker.” I eye him squarely, trying to convey the message of ‘Let’s fuck’ without directly saying it. “I mean, the one with the least clothes is the winner, right?”
Hush chokes on the spit in his mouth, nearly losing a battle to a coughing fit while he tries to stay in control. But there’s a twinkle in his eye that gives me pause, makes me know that he wants to say yes, throw away his night for me, and give in to those base desires I’ve tried to light for so long.
Instead, as we get to my front door, he sighs, long and deep. That’s the last sound I want to hear from him. Makes me feel like I pushed too hard, and now he’s regretting his decision to stick around.
“I like seeing you like this.” Shift the conversation back to something lighter. Away from my mind’s filthy wants, and back to where we were before I blew it.
“Like what?” He lifts a brow and spins to face me, still keeping our arms close together.
“So talkative. Happy. Not sure what to call it, if I’m honest.” Leaning in closer, with the sole intention of inviting him to do the same, I wait a moment to see if Hush will pick up on the signal. When he doesn’t, to avoid embarrassment for both of us, I continue, “You’re like a whole different person from the silent monster who drove me home the first time.”
“Must be you,” he says, prying himself away from me reluctantly. “You bring it out in me.”
He sighs again, and this time my heart sinks into my guts because his mouth is moving before I have the chance to pull him back to me. “Look, I understand what you’re trying to do, Tara, but I can’t go up there with you.”
“Why not?” My lower jaw quivers, making me stutter the words.
“It doesn’t feel right.” He turns away, locking eyes with whatever he can see through the window on the upper half of the door. “You’ve been out drinking. You’re not in the right state of mind. I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
Yes, I’m a little tipsy, but I’ve wanted this for months. I think about him drunk, I think about him sober. For shit’s sake, Hush is all I ever think about. But there’s no way to say that now without him thinking I just went overboard.
“I understand.” Much better than I’m letting on, too. If he thinks I’m going to roll over and give up because of one small setback, Hush has another thing coming.