Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“All right.” Riggs jumped up to his feet. “That’s enough molestation for one day. I’m not going to fuck you while you’re skunk drunk. I’m not a fucked-up consolation prize for Cocksucker.”
“But Riggs!” I threw my hands up in the air, whining.
He jammed his feet into his boots, looking extremely pissed off. “I’m gonna let you sleep this one off and never mention it again, because apparently, on top of everything else, you’ve turned me into a gentleman now.”
Oh, no. I wasn’t going to let him go anywhere. He was just going to sleep with someone else. A fantastic idea sprang into my mind.
“Wait!” I jumped to my feet, immediately regretting it. My head swam.
Riggs turned back to me. “What?”
“I want to take you up on your offer.”
“What offer?”
“To watch porn together.”
He scowled. “When did I offer that?”
“On the subway.” I smiled sunnily. “That night when we dined and dashed, remember?”
The night he’d stood up for me. The memory made my spine tingle.
Riggs swiped his tongue along his bottom lip. His throat bobbed. I could tell he was struggling to make a decision.
“I’m not going to regret it,” I lamented. “I’m even willing to sign a declaration. And laminate it.”
Finally, a reluctant smirk tugged at his perfect lips. “You need help.”
“Help me, then!” I opened my arms. “Help me discover my sexuality. BJ was terrible in bed, Riggs. Terrible. He humped me like a dog, then flopped over before I was even done. And I swear he couldn’t find my clit with a map, a search party, and if there was a huge neon sign attached to it.”
It felt lovely saying this aloud. It might have been uncharitable and petty, but it was also something else: the truth.
“What’s your plan?” He arched an eyebrow. He had nice, thick eyebrows. I wanted to run my fingers over them.
“To screw BJ out of my system,” I announced, then added, “but I get that you don’t want to take advantage of me. So that’s why I’m willing to watch porn with you, which is technically not touching each other, and therefore not exploiting.”
“No touching,” he warned.
“None whatsoever.” I lifted two fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever in the Scouts?” He eyed me skeptically.
“No,” I confessed. “I was too busy studying, honing my fake accent, and filling lottery tickets.”
We both laughed.
Even though I was plastered, I did recognize the truth for what it was—I’d been attracted to Riggs from the get-go, and I wasn’t going to regret the decision to sleep with him, if he was willing to go there.
I waited with bated breath for his verdict.
Finally, he picked up his phone from the coffee table between us. “Grab your laptop. I’m going to rock your world, Poppins.”
Half an hour later, we were sitting on the settee with my laptop on Riggs’s lap, balanced on his mammoth erection, watching Throbbing Hood.
As far as the plot went, Throbbing Hood did not have one. But Throbbing, the hero, was a very prolific thief, in a sense that he’d already stolen four women from their husbands and given them all orgasms.
At the same time, naturally. Which meant he had to get creative with his toes.
Personally, I couldn’t really get the fascination. Sure, Throbbing’s willy looked like a pool noodle, but everything was so manufactured. All the moans and the groans, the perfect silicone tits, and the orchestrated orgasms. No rare acting talent had been wasted on this body of work. I could tell every single participant only did this for the paycheck.
Which was how I found myself yawning halfway through the thirty-minute movie, checking the time and wondering how many viruses were currently leeching into my laptop from the porno website.
Riggs, who didn’t seem too into it, either, and in fact didn’t seem to have breathed for the last half hour, turned to look at me.
“Not your thing?”
I shrugged. “You really hyped it up. I thought there would be . . . more.”
“More?” He seemed on edge. “What more could you want? There is enough jizz to fill an Olympic pool, and we haven’t even made it to the anal-beads part.”
“Thanks for the spoiler.” I made a face. “Next thing I know, you’ll tell me which one of them he ends up marrying.”
“Marrying . . . ?” His face fell. “Poppins, he’s not going to marry any—”
Realizing I was joking, he let out a gravelly, sexy laugh, shutting down the laptop. Oh, no. Now there really wasn’t any chance of us doing the deed. And he was extra gorgeous, now that I was mostly sober and able to fully appreciate him.
“How’s your head?” he murmured.
“Full of depressing thoughts, but otherwise fine. How’s yours?”
His features softened, probably as he remembered the appointment I’d booked him. My cheeks pinked. Did he think I was in love with him or something? Because I truly wasn’t. It was just a silly doctor’s appointment. Anyone would have done it. It was the right thing to do.