Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I moved experimentally, shifting my ass on his lap and closing my eyes as I did.
If I accidentally made eye contact with anyone at the table, I might blush and reveal that I was having naughty thoughts.
I reached my hand down, letting it trail along his chest and abs, stopping when I reached the buckle of his belt.
He’d lost the gun that’d been there all during the trip sometime in between us changing and coming down here.
Meaning, I was thankful because it gave me access to his belt buckle once I managed to move the towel out from under our two bodies, bunching it up to the side so I could make it happen.
He didn’t show any outward signs that he liked what I was doing, but boy was his cock hard.
So hard that I was scared to unzip his jeans for fear that I’d catch his cock on the zipper.
Just when I finally found the courage to unzip the zipper, he abruptly stood.
“Let’s go get you into your hotel room and changed,” he said. “I have some things I need to talk about tonight, and I want to make sure you’re settled.”
The abruptness of the whole scene had me standing and grasping at the towel that was still in Apple’s grasp.
He held onto it, though, meaning I either let go or play tug o’ war with him.
Needless to say, I knew when I was beat.
I didn’t fight for something that I knew I wouldn’t win, and that towel wasn’t one of them.
So I let it go and started shuffling to my room.
But he didn’t follow me up to my room.
He stopped me about halfway up the steps, grabbed a hold of my hand, and pulled me to a stop just inside of the stairwell.
“Stop,” he said softly.
I stopped and turned to find him at the bottom step, me four steps above him.
“You’re not coming?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“No,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
He ran his hands through his hair and looked down at his feet.
“I have to tell the guys something, and I’ll come back to the room and talk to you about it once I’m done. I thought about it the whole way over here, and I just have to get it off my chest before we take this even further,” he said softly, looking up at me with sadness in his eyes.
I nodded mutely.
“You remember the room number?” He hoped.
I nodded again.
“Good,” he uttered. “I may be a little later, but if I’m not there by nine, come get me.”
“Where will y’all be?” I asked.
He pointed down the stairs.
“There’s a bar in the lobby that you missed since you came in through the back door,” he informed me.
“Okay,” I breathed, shivering slightly.
He grinned.
“Get up to the room,” he ordered.
I nodded again.
When neither one of us moved, he started up the steps until his face was even with mine.
“I think you need to go,” he said. “Or I’ll have to take you right in this stairwell.”
I shivered again.
“They have cameras,” I pointed to the cameras that were in the corners of the stairs.
He grinned.
“I don’t mind if you don’t,” he teased.
I blinked slowly, then smiled.
Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Hurry.”
His eyes flared.
“I’ll see what I can accomplish,” he said.
I nodded and turned, but his grip on my hips had me halting.
“Did I tell you how fucking hot you looked in this?” He asked.
My head dropped to my chest.
“No,” I told him breathily, my nipples beading into sharp little points.
But before I could act on the need that was exploding through my body, he was gone, and I was left alone in a cold stairwell with only the smell of him to keep me company.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “The man’s going to be the death of me.”
Chapter 7
I’m trying to cut down on my fucking swearing. Let’s fucking see how the fuck that fucking goes. Fuck.
-Text from Kitt to Ridley
Apple
“Well, you got us,” Mig said as he took another shot. “Are you ever going to grow a pair and tell us why we’re all here getting drunk, instead of out with our women?”
I was getting to that.
I just needed another drink first.
I held my finger up to the bartender, and he brought me my eighth shot.
“You’re going to die of alcohol poisoning. How are we going to get your bike home without you to drive it?” Ridley sighed in exasperation.
I took the shot the moment the bartender sat it down on the bar top in front of me.
“It’d be helpful as fuck if you didn’t push me,” I said, bringing the beer that the bartender followed up with up to my lips and took a long swallow.
I wasn’t even tasting it at this point.
I nearly chickened out and that was about the point where I started ordering the shots.