Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Although, it probably won’t.
It definitely won’t.
I don’t know why I continue to kid myself. I made a promise to him and right now, I’m breaking it.
Dad won’t be satisfied with news about a trip he didn’t want me to take. He wants answers, and the only one I have to give is not the one he wants to hear.
As it gets closer to closing time, my phone rings again. It’s dad, and again, I wait until it’s stopped ringing, my heart picking up at the image of him standing with his cellphone against his ear, waiting for me to be a decent person, a loving daughter, anything more than I actually am.
When I look up, I find Bryce, standing behind the bar with a glass in hand, watching me. I fake a quick smile, suspecting that he won’t be fooled by it. He nods; a simple gesture that makes me feel even more seen.
By the end of the evening, my nerves are frayed, and my patience is in tatters. All I want is to be alone. For the first time in a long time, the tightness in my throat feels ready to break into emotion that will be obvious to everyone. All my strategies for pushing my feelings down deep, locking them up and throwing away the key aren’t working. As I stride back to the safety of my room, my phone rings again. The urge to toss it at the wall and stomp on it is violent and stupid, but still…
"Dawn." Bryce’s voice breaks through the frantic squeeze of regret and panic that’s encircled my throat.
Words spill in my mind. I’m fine. I just need some time alone. I’ll see you tomorrow. But none leave the tightness of my lips
Even if they would, I know Bryce wouldn’t let it go. His brows are drawn together, and his eyes narrowed, and they search my expression for answers to his unspoken question. Are you okay?
He jogs to make up the distance between us, panting just a little when he’s finally close enough to touch. His lips part and that unspoken question threatens to surface. Before it does, I grab the front of his warm shirt and tug him, kissing his surprised lips with a ferocity that shocks me.
Bryce can do magic, but I am magic. Brilliant and bright and full of surprises.
For just a second, his stupor slows his response, but as soon as my tongue touches his, it’s like an explosion of molten metal shards that brighten the space between us. Oh god. This is what I need. This is what I always need.
On tiptoes, I teeter against the tall wall of impressive man in front of me. When I moan at his kiss, his fist gathers more of my shirt, tugging me tighter, but then it’s like he comes to his senses. Drawing back, Bryce stares down at me, but before he can say anything, I touch his cheek. "Get your brother," I say.
We’re standing so close that I notice the moment his pupils blow wide with arousal. "Are you sure that’s a good idea…you seem…"
"Horny," I interrupt. Horny is a much better word than upset. "I am horny. And anyway, wasn't this Mitchell’s idea? Get a schedule going so that you can all send me to cloud nine, night after night."
"Mitchell sometimes has stupid ideas." Bryce’s hand releases my shirt and I feel like he’s moving away, inch by inch, slipping through my fingers. I can’t let that happen. Tonight, I need him, and Bradley more than I’ve needed anything in a long time. I step in, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth.
"Get your brother," I say. "Or I can go find someone who wants me."
Bryce’s spine straightens like a snap bracelet forced back to its original form. I don’t think it’s from jealousy as such. None of these men strike me as the possessive kind. If I had to speculate, I’d say his switch is more about missing out or being replaced. This is his night. His moment in the schedule. His chance to show me what he’s made of.
"I’ll message him," Bryce says, sliding his hand into his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he quickly taps out a message that I don’t see but wish I could read. It would sure give me an insight into his relationship with his twin and maybe into what he’s thinking about the rest of our night together. "You're really sure?"
"I’m sure."
Those two little words change everything about his demeanor. We’re close to my room, and he stalks me like a hungry panther until my back is pressed against the door, and his breath is hot against my neck. One big hand slides down my hip, tugging my left leg over his hip, holding me tightly to him as he inhales against my skin. "You smell like magic," he says, and I’m buzzed enough to giggle. Buzzed enough to slip my hands up under his shirt and get a feel for what he’s got going on. I am not disappointed. Taut skin clings to hardened muscle, and an impossible ladder of abs stretches beneath his belt, leading to the promised land. What he has pressed against my pussy feels very promising indeed.