Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You know how we’re lying to protect your sister? Or something? And we’re not actually dating to protect your sister?”
“Yes,” she says suspiciously, like she knows some kind of harebrained idea is going to follow. She’s not wrong.
“Well, I thought that, given we’re such good liars—we have Ed and Katherine fooled, after all—if we were to . . . I don’t know, actually have dinner, and things went wrong, we could lie about it easily. Pretend everything’s fine. They wouldn’t have to know we hate each other. We’d just be switching the lie.”
She narrows her eyes like she’s really trying to concentrate on what I’m saying. “You think we should date?”
I pause for a second or two, but only for dramatic effect. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue. “I think about you all the time,” I confess. “Even when I haven’t seen you in weeks. When I actually do see you, I have a really great time. I like you. I like hanging out with you. I’d like to do that some more.”
Her slow smile is interrupted. “You have to promise me something.”
She could make me promise just about anything in this moment.
“No lies between us,” she continues. “You have to promise we tell each other the exact truth. All the time. No lies of omission, no keeping things from me because you think I’ll hate you, or because you don’t want to make joint celebrations difficult. If you tell the truth, I’ll always respect you, and if I respect you, I can’t hate you. I might not like you, but I can’t hate you.”
“Deal,” I say. It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made.
She grins at me. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.”
“Wanna hang out some more tonight?” she asks.
“One hundred percent.”
The Uber pulls up in front of my building with perfect timing, and we clamber out. “I’ll have to go home before work. I don’t have a change of clothes,” she says, practical as ever.
“Let’s make that tomorrow’s problem,” I say.
“Tomorrow’s problem? Okay.” She laughs. “I’m losing my head around you, Hunter Bain.”
I take her hands in mine and back her up against the wall of my building. “Oh, yeah?” I press a kiss on her neck. She smells so good—of roses and, somehow, sea air.
Her hand grips my shoulders, and I burrow my head into her neck. “Yeah.”
I pull back and scoop her up, carrying her into my building.
“Just like we’re honeymooners,” she says, tipping her head back. “Thank goodness I decided to go part-time.” Her laughter lights up the space around us.
When we get into my apartment, I set her down, but she doesn’t glance away from me. I expected her to want a full tour, to inspect every cupboard and drawer, but I have her full attention. It’s like she’s drip-feeding me pure testosterone.
“So,” she says, gazing up at me. “Now that you have me here, what are your plans?”
I let out a deep rumble that comes from my chest. Oh, the plans I have for this woman.
I pull her closer, pressing my lips to hers. Our tongues meet, and it feels like we’ve crossed a line. Yes, we’ve kissed before. But in all the scenarios up to now, we’ve been around each other because our presence was required by someone else. Right here, right now, she’s in my apartment because I want her here and she wants to be here.
Things have changed.
We both know it.
I pull her against me, trying to get closer. I deepen our kiss, needing more from her, my self-control ebbing away. I want to strip her naked and lick her from mouth to pussy, but I know already that I’m going to take my time. She deserves reverence. She deserves the best sex of her life. And something tells me I’m not going to have experienced anything like Lucy Jones before.
I grasp her ass, pressing her against me. I’m hard already, and I want her to know how much I want her. She slides her hand between us. When her palm hits my erection, I groan into her mouth.
I feel the throb of veins pulsing in my neck as I grind against her hand. I can’t ever remember wanting a woman as much as I want Lucy. I’ve wanted her since back in Martha’s Vineyard. If Ed wasn’t so important to me, I would have never been able to hold back from staking my claim.
And now? Now I’m too far gone to even remember Ed’s full name.
She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt. As soon as it’s open, she slides her hands up my chest. Her soft heat is everywhere, warming me as she touches me.
She releases me and spins. “My zipper,” she says, lifting her hands and fiddling with her hair. I pull down the metal tag just as her hair falls down her back, as if one is chasing the other.