Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Pressure falls on my ribs, but I manage to bob my head a little.
He’s silent another moment, and then he steps back, jerking his chin toward his room. “I’m gonna take a shower, maybe order some room service after ...”
“K,” I whisper.
I think he wants me to say more, to confirm I’m not going to bed or ask him to order me something too, but I can’t bring myself to say another word, and so he heads into his room, pulling my conjoining door closed, but not all the way.
I settle onto the bed to feed Bailey, wondering what the hell I’m doing and fully aware I’m at the edge of no return.
I don’t know what to do, but I know what I want to do, and it’s not the morally correct option.
It’s the selfish, lonely, hopeless one.
q
Tobias
“If she wakes up, we’ll hear her. If not because she’s ten feet away, then because of this.” Meyer lifts the monitor up, shaking it.
I glare at the connecting door. “How effective are those things? ‘Cause this is a giant hotel and there’s another door that leads to that room.”
“Two if you count the other side door.”
My head swoops toward hers and Meyer laughs.
“Oh my god, the door is literally half open.” She fights a grin when my glare deepens. “Okay, fine. I can turn this on, walk all the way to my garbage cans in the alley, and hear her on this just fine. I don’t ... but I can. I tested it with Bianca’s awful singing voice.” She grins.
I lean back on the bed, peeking through the gap of the door.
“What are you doing?” she teases.
“If I lean back a little more” —my back stretches, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress— “I think I can see the edge of the playpen—oh shit!”
I slip off the edge of the fucking bed, my chips falling and spilling around me.
Meyer starts laughing her ass off, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
“You better quit,” I warn, but the girl laughs even harder.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?” I grin.
She shakes her head, trying to get out an ‘I’m sorry’ but she can’t stop laughing. Her palm drops to the comforter, so I quickly pull my shoulders off the ground, gripping her by the wrist.
I tug her toward me, catching her other wrist as she falls right on top of me. Her palms flatten on my chest, and she chuckles, nearly choking, but then her head lifts, her hair still loose and falling in front of her.
Her laughter dies on her lips, and she clears her throat.
I can see it in her eyes. She wants to flirt, but more than that, she wants to be flirted with.
And then she wants what follows.
The pull in her core, the heat between her legs, the kind that only burns deep with the touch of a man.
A man who wants her just as much.
What’s holding you back, baby?
Her chin dips, and she peeks up at me through her lashes. “Mind if I use your shower, I don’t want to wake her after the long ride today.”
I nod, the idea of her naked in my room sending a jolt through me.
My dick thickens, hardening beneath her, so I quickly roll her onto her back, lifting my hips so they’re no longer touching hers and before she can feel me grow.
I jump up, offering her my hand and smirking at the way her lips have parted. “Put your hand in mine, Tutor Girl.”
A heady laugh leaves her and she does as I ask, allowing me to tug her to her feet.
“Shower’s all yours, Tutor Girl,” I rasp, letting her go.
She slips into her room, quietly returning with some clothes and a grocery bag with her soaps in it. Her eyes slide to mine as she reaches the bathroom door, but she quickly pushes it open, closing herself inside.
The shower turns on, and I blow out a long breath, flopping onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling.
Fuck me, this girl.
I bang my head against the pillow, chuckling at the irony of the situation.
Me, Tobias Cruz, the tabloid playboy, shacked up in a hotel room with a girl I can’t even beg to touch me. Of course she’s the one I want to touch me.
I want her to step into that shower, and then call me in to join her, allowing me the pleasure of taking her dripping wet, of making her drip, I’d have her so wet.
So fired up.
She’d burn from the inside out, the way I do.
My gaze falls with my exhale, freezing when my eyes meet the long mirror on the wall ... directly across from the bathroom door, the frosted bathroom door.
Slowly, I push up as Meyer, on the other side of it, slips from her clothes.