Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
To my surprise, a very unexpected face drops by our table, beam just as bright as ever, when it interrupts the bickering. “Lovely library lady.”
Archer’s arm protectively flexes around my shoulder at the same time I greet him, “McCoy.”
“You know they don’t have books here, right?” He good-naturedly jabs.
“Give me ten minutes, and I bet I could prove you wrong.”
Laughter escapes us both while my boyfriend shifts around uncomfortable in the booth seat beside me.
Ohmygod, is he…jealous? Is that what a jealous boyfriend does? I mean I’ve read that this is what he does, but I didn’t think it happened in real life!
As if he’s noticed, my co-worker extends an open palm toward the man beside me. “McCoy.”
Archer immediately grips the hand tight. Shakes. “Cox.”
Okay, so do men just not use their first names with each other?
“Nice to finally meet the reason my favorite librarian’s been smiling a shit ton lately.”
“McCoy!”
Archer arrogantly chuckles, kicks his chin a little higher, casually confesses. “She’s the reason I smile a shit ton, too.”
McCoy adjusts his backwards black baseball cap on a cocky smirk. “Yeah, my girl does that to me. I get it.”
“Is that what you’re doing here?” I interrupt, cheeks so red I look like a zit that needs to be popped. “Who you’re meeting?”
“Nah,” he casually brushes off, “otherwise I’d call her over. Have us all hang out. She likes you.” His grin grows wider. “You speak her language.”
“Classic lit?”
“That too.” He rolls his baby blue eyes in a familiar fashion. “I meant cop dad.”
The grin on my face thoughtlessly grows wider. “Right! Her dad’s The Commissioner where you guys are from.”
“You’re dating a cop’s daughter, too?” Archer slyly joins the conversation. “Got any tips?”
His mouth cringes prior to answering. “None that are probably useful to your situation.”
Wonder what he means by that.
“Anyway, I’m here to cash in a favor.” His eyes cut the direction behind us. “And I see favor has just arrived.” The mischievous smirk he lets slip into place is both sexy and unsettling. “You two have fun.” He gives me a playful wink. “Private bathrooms are in the back if you wanna have too much fun.”
More redness explodes in my expression, yet Archer merely chuckles.
Public sex?! Did he really just suggest public sex?! Is that something a lot of people do?! Do you? Have you? Should I?
The question leaves my mouth before I can stop it. “Have you ever done that?”
Archer quirks an eyebrow in question at me as he reaches for his beer. “Care to be more specific?”
“Bathroom sex. Or public sex? Or sex in a public bathroom?”
Rather than bring his mug to his lips he pauses to reply. “Yes.”
“To which one.”
“All.”
An unexpected wave of jealousy washes over me that I know I have no business feeling.
He’s allowed to have a past…I logically know this. Illogically hate it.
“Sweetheart,” he begins, gently nudging my arm for my eyes to return to his, “don’t start planning for battles that there’s no need to fight. We have enough.”
The statement pulls my lips to one side in hopes of keeping my composure.
“You wanna know about my exes, I’ll be an open book, but if you’re looking at the shit that happened between me and them like a research guide, don’t waste your energy. What we have can’t compare. Fuck, Jaye, our relationship isn’t even in the same section of Crack That as the bullshit I’ve had in the past.”
There’s no stopping my gray sweater covered shoulders from relaxing.
“Roger that?”
“Roger that.”
“Good.” He leans over to let his tongue momentarily dip into my mouth, slide aggressively across mine, only pulling back once he’s successfully made me whimper. “Now, tell me more about McCoy. He’s the in-house paint guy?”
Explaining McCoy’s position at the school naturally leads to us discussing what’s been going on during the week. We chit-chat about some of the pending school events including my ideas for the next month’s book club but cease the conversation when our buzzer summons us over to our lane.
From Archer’s very first turn, it’s clear I’m in trouble.
Nothing slows the man down.
Not the godawful shoes – that only I seem to be slipping in.
Not the easy to be distracted by music – kudos to them for finding so many songs that are “car” related.
And not even his limp that had been hurting him so bad last night he had to soak it in my master bath’s tub.
Loved that we got bubbles everywhere. Didn’t love mopping them up.
Another successful spare occurs prompting my boyfriend to throw his hands in the air and smugly state, “King of the balls!”
Pressing my lips tightly together is done to hold in my giggles.
“Fuck, yeah, I hear it.” His open mouth laughing encourages my own. “It sounds better in my head.”
“I go through that shit all the time.”
More snickers slip from him at the same time he flops into the space next to me. “I love hearing whatever you have to say.” His arm stretches back around my seat while the pins are being restacked. “No matter how weird or accidentally pornographic it may sound.”