Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Ben returns with two plastic cups of pink frozen slush, each topped with a strawberry plopped in the middle. He hands me one and then holds his up for a toast. “To strength of spirit, bravery of heart, and chaotic train wrecks that blow my world apart. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins as he taps his cup to mine and swallows a drink.
I laugh at the odd but sweet compliment and take a sip too. It’s cool and icy, tasting of summer sweetness. “Mmm,” I say, licking my lips. “Yummy.”
“Kaitlyn said they’re pretty weak because they’re free, but they’re good,” he agrees, picking up his strawberry.
Right as he’s about to take a bite, Richard appears, grinning merrily. “Nuh-uh, you heard the lady: you’re supposed to feed each other the strawberry,” he tells Ben with a comical wink.
“Oh, uh . . . we’re not—” he tries to argue, but Richard isn’t hearing it.
“A little nibble never hurt—much,” Richard argues back, waggling his brows at his own semi-joke. He gestures for me to hold up my strawberry, and I’m having so much fun watching Ben struggle to find a way out of this that I play along. I fish the fruit out of my drink and hold it up in the air victoriously.
“Wanna bite my berry, Ben?” I tease, waving it back and forth enticingly.
Ben arches his brows as he smirks knowingly. “You have no idea what you’re playing at, Hope. Be careful.”
I’ve always been careful. Never strayed from the safe and narrow path of good choices. Maybe what I want is to not be careful or safe. Maybe I want to make a bad choice, starting with this strawberry and Ben. When the daiquiri drips onto my hand, it feels like a sign that the universe is on my side with that sentiment, so I stick my tongue out to lick the cold, sticky liquid. “Oops,” I murmur. “Too late.”
“Fuuuck,” Ben groans.
Richard laughs at Ben’s predicament and advises him, “Don’t fight it, boy. Women always have the upper hand. The sooner you realize it, the happier you’ll be.” He pats him on the back and steps away, leaving me confused because I most definitely have never had the upper hand in a single interaction I’ve been involved in. And certainly not with Ben, who’s been saving me left, right, and center, mostly from myself.
But while I’m confused, Ben looks furious. No, that’s not fury. It’s just as hot, just as all-consuming, but it’s . . . lust.
Staring into Ben’s dark eyes, with the firelight throwing shadows over his face, I feel desired. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way. Roy wanted to have sex, but it was always because he was horny, not because he wanted me specifically. But Ben does, and he’s not hiding it. In fact, his craving is bold and blatant as he holds his strawberry up, touching its tip to my lip.
“Open.” His voice is low and rough, coming from deep in his throat. Or hell, maybe from his balls, because it’s pure sex in two syllables.
I drop my mouth open and let him feed me the juicy fruit. Rather than a delicate nibble of uncertainty, I take a big chomp out of it, chewing and smacking like it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. “Delicious.”
“I bet,” he answers, a soft smile tilting up his lips.
“Taste mine,” I say, tempting him with my own strawberry. I move it closer, wait till he opens his mouth, and then jerk it a few inches away. He grins at the tease, so I do it again. But the third time, he grabs my wrist and holds the fruit to his mouth for a second, locking eyes with me before he bites into it.
“You’re right. Delicious.”
“You two are so cute,” Kaitlyn says, interrupting us. And as much as I like her, and as sweet as she is, I kinda hate her for a minute because I was enjoying the flirting with Ben. At the beach, I might not’ve been sure how to do it, but I think I’ve got it figured out now.
Act like everything is a double entendre for sex and it’s basically flirting. I could say, I’m gonna floss your teeth, and it could still be flirting if I think about sex when I say it, like Slip it in, and Slide it back and forth, in the right, purring Jessica Rabbit tone of voice. I hope I’m doing better than that, though, because plaque buildup isn’t sexy.
Focus, Hope. Think about sex. Think about sex with someone other than Roy. Eeek! Think about sex with . . . Ben. Double EEEK!
I have been, that’s for sure. All day, I’ve stared at his hands as they caressed his guitar, watched the way his mouth moved as he talked—no, sang—to himself, and imagined him dirty-talking in my ear. And I’ve definitely pictured what he might look like beneath that God-awful flamingo suit I made him wear. I might not’ve expected the fabric to be so clingy, but I wasn’t upset that it outlined every inch of Ben’s dick. Nope, definitely not upset a bit about that. Intrigued, is more like it.