Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I pull the sunshade down to check my face in the little mirror. My make-up is still perfect. Ready for the second phase of this operation.
"Well, he's been supportive of me. Maybe he's turned over a new leaf."
We step out of the car, and our eyes meet over the roof. "He'd have to turn over a new forest to make up for his past assholery."
I slam the door shut, watching another couple head down the road to the bar with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. I look back and find Dornan watching them, too. "It's not like you to be vindictive."
His eyelids lower a little, then he shakes his head. "I just don't want to see you hurt."
When he rounds the car, I glance around to make sure no one's looking. Then I hitch up my dress. "You see these. These are big girl panties, Dornan."
His eyes almost bug out of his head at the sight of my black lace thong, but I think I've made my point. Before he has a chance to fix his shattered brain, I drop the fabric and link my arm through his. "Let's get some drinks, shall we?"
It's weird hanging out with Dornan without the rest of the crew. Weird and easy. We never seem to run out of conversation, maybe because we know so many of the same people and have shared a lot of time together because of his friendship with Ellie. In contrast to Elias, Dornan keeps a respectful distance while we sit across from each other at the bar. Some of Eddie's crew are seated in a booth across the dance floor, and I've already noticed them looking our way. Being out with Dornan is good, but it's not good enough. I need to be seen with his hands on me if Eddie's going to believe that this is anything more than two friends catching up over beer and cocktails.
When we've finished dissecting Dalton's party where we first kissed, and I've finished two deliciously different cocktails, I notice one of Eddie's friends moving closer. I rest my hand on Dornan's knee. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"
With wide blue eyes the color of a cerulean sky, he blinks. Then his head bobs in almost imperceptible agreement. The distance between us is too great, so I slide off my stool, stand between Dornan's beefy legs, and rest my hands against his slab-of-granite chest. He breathes in so deeply that it's a wonder he doesn't get a head rush.
It feels strange to slide my hand around the back of his neck and to feel his palms encircling my waist. Strange but also fluttery and exciting. He's so big and brawny, exuding a level of protectiveness that settles the uncertainty lurking inside me like a dark weight under my ribs.
I lean in closer, leaving it until the last minute to drop my eyelids. When our lips meet, it's a brush of contact that sends shivers up my arms.
Unlike Elias, Dornan is gentle and tentative at first, only becoming demanding when we've learned the way each other moves, and I get lost in the teasing way he sucks my bottom lip between his. Dornan's hands go from gentle to greedy, pulling me closer until I'm clamped between his strong legs. It's good because my knees are the consistency of Cool Whip, and my mind has chosen this exact moment to exit my body.
When Dornan makes a low rumbling growl in his throat, and his hands slide up my sides so that his thumbs are resting just beneath my breasts, I draw back so that I can look into his eyes.
For the first time, I get to witness his pupils spread with arousal, darkening them to the color of the sky just before darkness falls. The flashing lights reflect into them, and he stares at me like I'm something new and shiny and fascinating.
"Was that okay?" he asks.
"More than okay," I find myself replying with a husky, breathless voice.
"Did they see?"
I don't look around to check who's watching us. I'm too caught up in the moment.
"Can I take a selfie of us?" I swallow, trying to fuse my splintered mind again. This is Dornan Walsh, not a Hollywood A-lister. I need to get myself together.
"Sure. Of course."
I turn in the circle of his arms and pull out my phone, holding it high and resting my face against Dornan's. On camera, we look like a sweet couple. My dark hair contrasts with his, but our features seem well matched.
"Where are you going to post it?"
I open Instagram and show him my page. The last photo I posted was with Elias. It hasn't had as many likes as I hoped it would get. I upload the picture I just took, studying the images side by side. There's a remoteness to the image of Elias and a presentness to the image of Dornan.