Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“What a mistake that was,” he replies.
“I couldn’t agree more, asshole.”
A horn honks again and he takes off, not saying another word until we reach the house.
When I get out of the car, as fast as I can, he’s speaking. “By the way, you’re in my bed tonight. I’ve burned yours.”
Then he walks inside, leaving me standing next to the car looking at his retreating form.
What the hell?
There isn’t a bed in my room anymore, it’s now empty. Not even my clothes are in here. Taking off my heels, I carry them in my hands as I walk to the door next to mine, to his room. He’s sitting on the end of his bed, paperwork in hand, and when I turn to look at his closet it’s full of clothes, and not just his, mine as well.
“We aren’t sharing a bed.”
He looks up. “Feel free to sleep on the floor then, but I must say my mattress is heaven.” Whiskey stands, removing his shirt as he walks away and into the bathroom. I watch as he goes. Once he’s out of sight, I look for pajamas, which is going to be hard, considering I don’t sleep in any. Finding an old shirt, I place my heels in his closet where all my other things are located.
Leaving, I head to my old room for a shower. When I reach the door, I find it locked. Walking back to his room, he steps out with a towel wrapped around his waist. My heart picks up speed, and I have to remember to look away.
I stare at him.
I want him.
That’s evident.
But only someone ridiculously stupid would want someone who’s using them. And I don’t want to be used.
“Do you need help getting undressed?” His words seem to unfreeze me.
“My bathroom is locked,” I manage to say.
“Yes. I told you this is your room now. That room is being torn apart.” He walks to his closet and drops the towel to the floor. His ass comes into view and words seem to evade me. I watch as he doesn’t bother dressing just turns around.
All I see is cock.
A lot of cock.
I cover my eyes and hear him laugh.
“If I remember, the last time you saw it, you weren’t covering your eyes,” he says, as I peek through my fingers.
“Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.”
“Is this why you won’t drink around me now? Afraid what you really want will come through?” Whiskey teases as he comes closer in all his glorious nakedness.
He pries my hands from my face until I have to look at him. When I do, my eyes focus everywhere but him—a very naked Whiskey.
“You can look. Hell, you can even…” he leans in closer, “… touch.”
My eyes fling wide open. “No!” Then I walk to the bathroom, my body brushing against his as I pass. The minute I get into the bathroom, I shut the door, locking it, and lean back against it.
One more week and we will be married.
How am I meant to put up with him for one whole year?
I’m fucked.
After showering and coming out, I notice he’s already in bed with a book in his hand.
“You read.” I walk around to the other side of the bed and reach for the pillows, making a borderline down the middle of the bed. One he’s not allowed to cross.
Whiskey stops reading and looks at me. “Sleeping with me requires a fort?” he asks, somewhat amused.
“Yes. Sleeping with you isn’t something I want to do,” I say, harrumphing as I climb into bed, pulling the quilt up over me, then turning over, so my back is facing him.
“Goodnight, Carla.”
I close my eyes, and believe it or not, I have the best damn sleep I’ve had in a long time, with a blackmailer right beside me, who also happens to have a marvelous body and terrific dick. Asshole.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” I wake to Emma standing next to my bed. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she looks down on the bed I’m still asleep in. I turn quickly to see Whiskey’s already gone and breathe a sigh of relief. “He let me in. Said your snoring woke him up.” She cackles.
“I don’t snore.”
She rolls her eyes at my words. “Please, and I’m the fairy godmother of dicks.”
“You could be,” I say thinking about a great dick I was dreaming of. Gosh, I hope I didn’t talk in my sleep.
Getting up out of bed, Emma looks me over. “What? No naked sleeping?”
As she says it, Whiskey walks in with a coffee in hand. “You sleep naked?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Walking over to him, I take the coffee out of his hand and stand in front of him while he’s dressed and ready like he’s been up and waiting for hours.