Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I pull back.
I fight a blush.
I tell myself to move off Jackson's lap, but his body feels so good under mine. Where it belongs. Where we both belong.
He brings his hands to his sides, trying to find some sense, but still looking at me with that perfect hazy expression.
Where are we, what are we doing, and why isn't it kissing more?
I catch my breath enough to slide out of his lap and into my seat.
His eyes stay glued to me. They stay full of some beautiful mix of curiosity and concern and need.
I have to look away so I don't blush, so I don't tell everyone in the car I want to mount him.
"Okay, Laurel, your turn, truth or dare," I say.
"Truth." She smiles do your worst.
Zack boos. "Cowardly."
"No. Truth is much braver than dare," Laurel says. "You might have to share your darkest secret. That's much scarier than kissing someone." Her eyes go to Rome anyway.
It's like her body is screaming dare me to kiss him.
But she picked truth.
And I wouldn't push her that way. I won't ask if she likes him. If they've kissed. If they've fucked.
No, I need to keep this fun.
I ask the first sex-related question that comes to mind. "Who do you think about when you masturbate?"
Jackson chuckles of course.
He is right. I'm reusing my question. And it's an obvious question for me to ask. But it's a smart choice. It reveals something personal, but nothing too personal. She could easily say Chris Hemsworth, and no one would bat an eye.
Laurel's eyes go to Rome. She presses her lips into an effortless smile. One that says I don't give a fuck what you think. "It depends on my mood, really. If I'm feeling a memory, I think about my ex… you know him, Rome. The guy who worked with Uncle Pete when you were in college."
Rome frowns.
Mission accomplished, I guess.
"We didn't date for very long," she says. "Honestly, he was kind of a jerk. Way too bossy. I hated it everywhere except the bedroom. There it was—" She fans herself. "I always thought it was the opposite, you know, a bossy person wants to submit. But not with him. Maybe that's just a stereotype. What do you think, J?"
Surprise fills Jackson's eyes. "What do I have to do with this?"
"You talk about sex a lot," Rome says.
"I'm answering the question," Laurel says. "Sorry if that's too slutty for you." She shoots him a death glare.
He sits back, defeated.
A charge passes between them. It's electric. There's a passion there. Hurt, yes, but something else too.
They're trying to poke at each other because they care.
And they're both succeeding. They're both revved up, with stiff shoulders and wide eyes.
They're both pretending they don't care.
Laurel continues her nonchalant confession, "If I want a Dom mood, I go with him. If I'm lonely, I think about a different ex, one who was more sweet and romantic. And if I'm in a more party mood, well, I think about the time I had sex with a stranger on a balcony. I was in Europe and we'd met at a hostel and it was like a slutty Before Sunrise. We connected all evening and then we fucked all night."
"They have sex in Before Sunrise," Zack says.
"You know it's okay for you to not talk for two minutes," Laurel says. "Like when someone else has the floor."
"I'm just saying," Zack continues. "It's like a normal Before Sunrise, not a slutty version." He looks at Rome with distrust—a rare expression for him. "It's not slutty just 'cause you did it."
She actually smiles. She settles into her seat, shoulders softening, jaw easing.
She's healed by her brother's words.
Healed by some old pain.
What the hell happened there?
Whatever it is, Rome knows. His brow furrows. His lip corners turn down.
He starts to say something and stops himself.
"And of course, there's always Idris Elba," Laurel says. "And Tom Hardy. Sometimes, at the same time."
"Have you had a threesome with two guys?" I ask without thinking.
She just laughs. "Not your turn anymore. My turn." She looks to Rome. "Truth or dare."
"Dare," he says, with little enthusiasm.
"Okay." She smiles. "I dare you to stand up in the moonroof and flash the city."
He raises a brow really.
"Just your chest." She smiles wider, clearly playing at something in their past. "What do you think? That I think you're adventurous? No. I know you're as square as Jackson."
He starts to protest, but again, he stops himself. He shakes his head, shaking off some distant memory, and shifts back into the ridiculous game. "Sure. I'll give the city a show." He slides off his seat.
She opens the moon roof.
He stands awkwardly. And sure enough, he lifts his t-shirt for the city.
Zack whispers something to Laurel.
She nods.
He stage-whispers, "Damn. Abs. That must be why women give you a chance. Since it's not your personality."