Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Charlotte. My friends call me Charlie.” When I reach to take his palm, my shoulders come out of the water. His gaze dips to the place where my breasts emerge from the steaming surface. He inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. His ocean blue eyes lock onto my face. The lazy heat in his eyes warms me all over.
Damn, but he’s beautiful. And the way he’s looking at me… his obvious appreciation revs my sex drive. The one that stalled after experiencing Taos’ very limited range of dating possibilities… after realizing The Big Plan I had for my life might never come together.
“No worries,” I say. “You just surprised me.”
His grin has a hint of a dimple. Yowza. Face of a model, charm of a movie star, the sleekly muscled shoulders of an Olympic swimmer. Triple threat. “What are you doing here all by yourself at sunrise, Charlie?” he purrs. The question shouldn’t sound like he just offered me sex, but for some reason, it does. He floats closer, hovering right at the edge of my personal bubble.
And I tilt my head up at him with a smile, ready to flirt with him even though I shouldn’t. This guy has player scrawled across his muscled chest. I’ve met a million guys like him on base, where I grew up. Military playboys who fuck anything with a pulse, and don’t ever look back.
Not to be judgmental, but I know his type. Fun to date, but here one day, ghosting the next. The opposite of the type I need for The Big Plan.
And yet here I am, savoring his charm like it’s my favorite mocha shake, complete with chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and shavings of dark chocolate on top.
“It’s my birthday,” I find myself saying, even though I didn’t plan on telling anyone who didn’t already know.
Lance flashes a lady-killer grin. “Happy birthday, Charlie.” He murmurs my name like he’s savoring it.
If he were any other guy, I’d roll my eyes and put up my usual defenses. I could still shrug Lance’s charm off. If I told him to stay away, he would. But he’s floating naked in the water, so close, so gorgeous, his attention all on me. It feels like fate.
“If we were at a bar, I’d buy you a drink. But since we’re naked in a hot spring, would you accept a back rub?” His dimple makes an appearance. This Charm Boy’s got a license to kill—with those long lashes, sculpted cheekbones, and baby blues. “A birthday massage?”
Ha. There it is. He’s playing his role as player so perfectly, it could be scripted. But fuck it, I want to let it happen.
“How about a foot rub?” I challenge, and let one foot drift up in the water between us.
He doesn’t falter. He claims my foot, keeping it under water and stroking his thumbs along my arch. He’s good. Infinitely skilled. He uses just the right amount of pressure between the long metatarsal bones, rolls and pulls each toe like he’s uncorking a bottle of fine wine. And then he starts working between my toes.
My plan has backfired. Every point he presses on my foot sends pleasure shooting up between my legs. This is foreplay.
Aw, damn. This guy is so hot, he’s going to make the water in this pool boil. If I didn’t know fifty things about screwing military guys, I’d do him. Not to incorporate him into The Big Plan. God, no. Just for fun. Just for me.
I know he’d be good in bed.
“You’re friends with Sadie,” he observes.
I blink. I shouldn’t be surprised he remembers that—we’ve met once before, briefly, in a restaurant. He just seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t notice anyone but the girl who’s naked and right in front of him.
“You’re friends with Deke,” I counter.
His amusement seems to grow. He studies me with those dimples flexing. “You wear cute t-shirts.”
I should not be so pleased he noticed. He does know me. And he likes my shirts. Or thinks they’re cute—is that the same thing?
“You ride a Harley.”
He shakes his head. “Ducati.” Then he shrugs, like he realizes I probably don’t care to hear the difference. “Yeah.”
Okay, I like this guy. I don’t want to, but he’s really hard not to like. Especially when he’s working between my toes like he knows it’s somehow the secret path north, straight between my legs.
For one insane moment, I consider jumping him right here in the hot spring pool. But I don’t do spontaneous. Ever. Nothing happens in my life without a thorough think-through. Without a plan.
“I heard you’re Special Forces.”
A hint of wariness creeps into his gaze. His face becomes little guarded. That makes sense. Special Forces is serious. He probably did and saw things that changed him forever. That’s what I’m afraid of for Chad.