Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Admittedly, those shoes were sexy as fuck.
Her sleeveless, cream-colored blouse dips just enough for me to see a hint of cleavage. Brienne’s skin isn’t pale, but it’s not quite tanned either. It’s creamy perfection and looks like it was made to be touched. Her only adornments are small hoop earrings and a thin gold necklace with some type of charm I can’t quite make out.
The whole ensemble is classy with a touch of sexiness I hadn’t expected. But maybe it’s just me who’s turned on by this ball-busting woman. It’s been a long time since I’ve been really turned on by someone.
I walk her way, and as I approach, the other couple fortuitously moves along. Her gaze catches me just before she starts to turn away, and a smile graces her lush mouth. Her lipstick is a deep red, but the rest of her makeup is understated, giving her a very Gwen Stefani vibe.
“Drake,” she says warmly as her hand extends outward. “I’m so glad you made it to the party. I wasn’t sure when you’d be arriving in Pittsburgh.”
Her skin is as soft as I’d expected, but her grip is strong. I can’t fucking stand people with weak handshakes, men or women.
“Got here a few days ago,” I say as our hands break apart. “Nice party.”
She glances around. “Well, it’s not like I cooked all the food. The caterers are the true heroes here, and my assistant did most of the planning.”
Lifestyles of the rich and famous. Still, I compliment her. “It’s nice you brought everyone together for some fun before training camp.”
She smiles and clasps her hands before her. “So, are you all moved into a home?”
“Yeah… Baden helped me find something over in North Shore, not far from the arena.”
“Avoiding a long commute?” she inquires. “A lot of the players live outside of Pittsburgh.”
“I want to be close to my kids when I’m in town,” I explain, and something shutters on her face. I expect it’s because she asked an inappropriate question about my children in our first meeting.
Brienne clears her throat and braves on. “You have three, right?”
I nod, a swell of elation and love hitting me just thinking about them. “Jake is about to turn seven, and Colby and Tanner are five.”
“Twins?” she asks in surprise.
“Double the trouble is what they say, but they’re good kids. My sister is bringing them in a few weeks, and she’s going to stay to help out.”
“That’s wonderful,” she exclaims and then looks to be struggling. “So, are they… do they… like, are they of an age they can read? I could send over books. Or maybe some toys. Building blocks, maybe?”
“You don’t know much about kids, do you?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “A distinct lack of experience of any kind.”
For some reason, this doesn’t surprise me. Brienne doesn’t give off maternal vibes.
No matter. Not looking for a mom for my kids.
Not looking for anything, really. Unless she wants to hook up, then I’m down for that.
And even as I think that, it occurs to me I give zero fucks that she’s my boss. She’s the one person who could slice me from this team with a twitch of her pen. She sits on the Titans’ throne, and that’s a line no player should ever think about crossing.
And yet… zero fucks.
It doesn’t even make me pause as I give her a bold once-over. She tips her head curiously.
“Where’s your boy toy?” I ask.
Her mouth parts in a surprised gasp that I’d be so impertinent, but the shock is no more than a flicker. Something flashes in her eyes.
Challenge, I think.
Brienne’s lips curve in a smile that’s both coy and sexy. “Tied to my bed.”
I can’t help but laugh because that was way too good of a comeback. I’m impressed with the speed at which she handles things and turned on at the thought of a woman confident enough in her desires to potentially have a man tied to her bed at this very moment.
Not that I’d ever let her tie me down. I have to be in the driver’s seat. It’s what happens when you’ve been badly burned before. You never give up control.
You trust no one, and that includes in the bedroom.
“I have to say,” she drawls as she lets her gaze run over me, “you clean up well.”
I’m wearing a pair of dress slacks and a button-down shirt, and while I might prefer my jeans and T-shirts, I know how to dress for the occasion. My closet has as many fine articles of clothing as it does biker wear.
I glance down at myself and then back up to lock eyes with her. “Admit it… you like the jeans better. And you sure as hell like the tattoos.”
Her eyes drop to the open collar of my shirt where my tats crawl up to my collarbone. When her eyes rise to meet mine, I can see she definitely likes what she sees.