Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Brock nearly spills his beer as my palm comes in contact with his thigh under the table.
“Hi,” I whisper to him, and his brown eyes widen.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Hey there,” he says back.
“Can you two please keep your hands off each other while at the table?” Anya says, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t know if I can,” I say with a smile, my hand rubbing Brock’s muscular thigh under the table. Wow, I’ve never felt a thigh this solid before. His pants tighten, and I pause, knowing I’m awakening his…item.
Brock clears his throat, placing his large hand over mine. “Don’t stop,” he whispers to me, and I reposition myself.
Now I’m sitting, facing the table, engaged in the conversation around me, as my hand runs over Brock’s thigh, feeling every muscle tense and loosen beneath me.
He’s slowly moving my hand closer to the danger zone the longer I rub on him.
Nobody’s paying us any attention, and we all laugh as Paxton says something funny that I can't even remember at this point.
All I can focus on is Brock’s thigh underneath my palm, and how good it feels.
Brock leans over toward me, his mouth near my ear and whispers, “You might want to stop now because if you keep doing this I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to you next.”
My eyes widen. “Really? Like four times worth?” What am I even asking? I need to put a halt on this, now. I stand up in a rush. “Anya, let’s go to the bathroom.” And then I rush out of the room.
Chapter 8
Brock
“Dance lessons? You can’t be serious,” I groan, running my hand through my hair.
“It’s supposed to be fun. Plus, you’ll be able to have your hands all over Willow like you obviously love doing,” Hartford says.
We’re having breakfast and Paxton just announced we’ll be attending dance lessons this afternoon. I’d rather stick needles into my eyes than spend the afternoon twirling around the dance floor with Willow.
At dinner last night when she was rubbing my thigh under the table, it was the first time I even considered pulling her back to our room and making her take care of what she started. After I told her to stop or I couldn’t be held responsible for what happened, she bolted from the table. Everyone was staring at me and I grinned as I shrugged, telling them she needed to go cool down. They all laughed, except for Lake. He looked like he wanted to leap over the table and grab me by the throat. I enjoyed the reaction and I winked at him before turning my attention to Callum.
After Willow and I got back to the room, that’s when things slipped right back to the way they always are with us. I’ve been sleeping on the couch, allowing her to take the bed. I’m a gentleman after all, but last night I made the suggestion we share the bed because my back was hurting.
Apparently, asking her to share the bed was equivalent to kicking a puppy. She started yelling asking if I was crazy. I thought she was joking at first, so I made another mistake and laughed.
Needless to say, I slept on the couch again and today my back is worse. Now, I need to spend the afternoon spinning Willow—the cause of said back pain—while acting like the happy couple we aren’t.
“I love dancing,” Willow says with a quick clap of her hands.
“At least you can move without pain,” I say under my breath.
“What?” she asks, dipping her eyebrows.
“So, you and Willow?” Callum whispers, raising an eyebrow.
I shrug and shove a fork full of scrambled eggs into my mouth. “Can’t fight what the heart wants,” I say after swallowing.
“Your heart?” he asks, shaking his head with a grin.
Yeah, they’re all convinced that Willow and I are having epic sex. I even heard Anya and Hartford whispering the reason my back hurt is due to a sex injury.
I wish that was the truth. It would make this tolerable knowing it happened because of some wild, crazy sex. Unfortunately, it’s been far too long since I had sex like that. Hell, I didn’t even have sex with Millie when we briefly dated.
It’s probably why my dick took such notice to Willow last night. He was so excited it wasn’t my hand for once.
“After breakfast, the girls are coming with me and we’re going dress shopping. I thought it would be fun to have a new dress for our dance lessons,” Hartford announces.
“Yes! I love this idea,” Anya says.
“It’s like you read my mind. I have nothing fun for dancing,” Willow replies.
“Count me in,” my mom says, sipping her mimosa with a grin.
All the girls start talking loudly and I lean back in my chair, groaning as my back protests the move.