Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Explain.” Hollis steps inside and crosses his arms.
His gruff tone and one-word order do all kinds of conflicting things to my body. I’m sweaty, I’m anxious, and now I’m horny. It’s made that much worse by his deliciously furrowed brow and pouty lips.
I let the door fall closed and mentally will the flush making its way up my chest to stop before it reaches my cheeks. Based on the heat level in my face, I’m unsuccessful. “I didn’t mean to forget Batdick at your place.” Or to refer to it as Batdick. But I can’t take either thing back.
“I fucking hope not,” Hollis grumbles.
“You won’t tell my dad, will you?” I throw up a little in my mouth at the possibility.
He stares at me but says nothing.
I get on my pro-self-exploration high horse. “I am an adult, and I do have needs.” I immediately want to pluck those words from his ears and stuff them back into my ridiculous mouth.
His cheek tics. “Why are you taking care of them in my goddamn bed?”
He’s so hot when he’s angry. I cross my arms and spew more nonsense. “You don’t know that for sure.”
He tips his head.
If panties were made of sugar, mine would melt off my body from his expression alone. “Maybe it fell out of my bag while I was playing with the kitties.”
He pokes at his top lip with his tongue. “Onto my nightstand?”
I swallow ten liters of anxiety saliva. “Postie likes to go in there and hunt for treats.”
“And one of those treats was your vibrator?” He holds up a hand when I open my mouth.
“I need to tell you something important.” His nostrils flare with his exhale. “I put up kitty cams in the penthouse last week and forgot to tell you about them.”
“Kitty cams?” I parrot.
He runs a hand through his hair. “They’re movement activated. Ash and Shilpa have them for their dogs. I thought it would be good for away games.”
Ashish Palaniappa is one of my dad and Hollis’s teammates, and Shilpa, his wife, is the team lawyer and one of my friends. I blink at him. “Where are they?”
“The living room and my bedroom.”
My breath leaves me on a whoosh. I grab the edge of the counter for support. “You recorded me?”
“It was supposed to record Postie and Malone,” he reminds me.
I tug at the neck of my hoodie. “Did you…did you watch it?”
He recoils. “Of course not! I deleted it immediately.”
A tiny part of me is disappointed. The rest of me is relieved. Or maybe it’s the reverse. I can’t read his expression or tell if the idea disturbs him or what. “So you actually don’t know if anything happened. That’s you hypothesizing.” This is good. I can deny it. “Maybe I went into your bedroom to get the boys.”
His voice lowers to a growl that I feel in all the rightest-wrong parts of my body. “We both know that’s a lie because you forgot to wash my sheets.”
I open and close my mouth twice as we stare each other down. Another wave of humiliation washes over me. Which is very conflicting considering all the other things happening in my body. I try to keep my eyes on the floor, but they’re disobedient assholes and lift anyway.
“It’s the first time that’s ever happened,” I blurt.
“Elaborate,” Hollis demands.
“You…want me to tell you what exactly I did?”
His teeth grind together. “No, Peggy. I don’t want details. The first time what’s ever happened.”
“The whole thing. The everything.” Explaining this is a lot like tripping around landmines. I cannot show my hand. The only thing worse than having a crush on my dad’s best friend would be him finding out about it. “I was reading a spicy book and snuggling with the kitties, and I’d just gotten my new silicone friend, and one thing led to another, and I’m really sorry.” I mash my lips together, but it doesn’t stop the word vomit. “I meant to wash the sheets. You weren’t supposed to know. It won’t ever happen again.”
He drags his tongue across his bottom lip. They’re so full. So kissable.
I need to stop noticing these things. It’s making my vagina ping despite how awkward this is, or maybe because of it? It’s probably wrong that I half wish he hadn’t erased the video. Definitely wrong.
“This doesn’t explain why you ended up in my shower.” His low, gravelly tone makes my stupid nipples tighten.
My anxiety takes over, and I blurt out more honesty than I mean to. “I was all sweaty after the…” I wave my hand. “And I should have gone back to my place, or to my dad’s, but the shower was right there, and your jet placement is perfect for—” Why can’t I lie?
He arches one dark, sexy eyebrow. Fuck him and his hotness. No, no. No fucking my dad’s best friend, who is more than ten years older than me. The thought is already in my head, and my stupid imagination is forming a scene I’ll probably use as fodder later, when Batdick and I are alone.