Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I bristled at his bossy tone, but my dick betrayed me. It liked the tone just fine, and since it was leading the charge right now, I kept my biting back talk to myself. Instead, I mumbled something about high-handed Wellbridges as I moved to turn off the music.
The low rumble of his laughter didn’t make my dick harder, but only because it wasn’t possible for my dick to get any harder.
When I finished turning everything off, I looked up to find him watching me with patient intensity. He held out his hand to me for the second time that night, and my eyes caught on the tattooed skin peeking out from under his watch strap, stark black against his honey-gold tan.
This is just sex, I reminded myself, gritting my teeth. Just sex. Use him for tension release. You deserve one night to let off steam.
I ignored the hand he offered and grabbed his wrist instead, towing him toward the back door. I didn’t want affection or tenderness. Not patience and polite manners. If we were doing this—and we sure the fuck were—someone needed to set the right tone from the outset.
Once I’d made sure the back door to the Tavern was locked, I grabbed his wrist again and marched him across the back lot to my little house. If my hands shook a little while typing in the code for my door, it was only because I was so horny. It had nothing to do with nerves. It was not because I cared.
But when I locked the door behind us, flipped on the lamp, and turned to JT, time went wonky, and the air around us felt strange. All the urgency of a moment ago seemed to dissipate as we stared at each other.
He was so damned perfect. The beautiful heir to the Wellbridge family dynasty. The golden boy Patricia and Trent had lorded over our community for decades as if there’d been such a thing as Honeybridge royalty and JT was the future king.
At times, I’d suspected JT himself didn’t feel that way, but he’d gone all-in with it anyway to make his parents proud—fancy schools and designer clothes, rich friends and elitist hobbies, his move to New York after college to carve out a high-powered job in the corporate world, and even the ridiculously pretentious, ridiculously sexy tattoo of a crown on his wrist. I’d told myself that going along with his parents’ idea of him as royalty was just as bad as believing it himself.
Now, in the muted lamplight, I looked at him more closely, and I couldn’t help but see the things that didn’t add up. One of his tidy fingernails was ragged and bitten, like his week hanging around Honeybridge hadn’t been particularly relaxing. The faded T-shirt he wore boasted of a New York City Parks volunteer event instead of some highbrow sailing race. A small scar at the edge of his jaw reminded me of the time he’d fallen on the corner of a display rack while helping Pop sweep up the General Store back in elementary school.
I frowned, staring at that scar. Why had a Wellbridge been helping out at Pop’s store in the first place?
“Why did you work at the General Store in fourth grade?” I blurted.
JT’s perfectly smooth forehead creased in confusion. “Is this a test? Or some kind of strange Honeybridge foreplay?”
I ignored him. “You didn’t need the money. And Pop sure as heck didn’t need a random kid when he had all of us Honeycutts. So… why?”
And why had I never thought to ask before? Not about this. Not about the science fair. Not about the mortifying not-a-date. I was suddenly afraid I’d made a serious error somewhere along the way. Or maybe I was making one now.
JT firmed his stubbled jaw. “Because Pop asked me to. That’s why.”
“But—”
“Did you want to spend tonight talking?” he interrupted. “Because you said just sex. And discussing your grandfather while I’m trying to get us off is kind of a deal breaker.”
“Yeah, but—” He was right, of course, but the inconsistencies still bugged me. Now that I’d noticed them, I couldn’t unnotice them.
“But nothing.” JT took a big step forward until his chest brushed against mine. His hands gripped my hips. “Tonight, my plan is to figure out where you keep a bed in this shoebox.” He glanced around my tiny house, his eyes glowing with amusement and lust, the headiest combination in the world. “Then, I’m going to shove you down on it, strip you bare, and pound your hole until we don’t remember our own names, let alone anything that happened in fourth grade.”
I was dizzy from his words. I sucked in a breath to try and steady myself and licked my lips before replying. “Who said I was bottoming?”