Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“That’s not the threat you think it is, Yvonne.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “If you don’t get out I won’t make you bacon and eggs for breakfast, and I make the best breakfast sandwiches according to Ev so—”
“Alright, alright, I’m going,” he chuckled. “No need to hang starvation over my head.”
With that, he finally left and I felt like I could breathe again. My nipples were hard as diamonds just from being naked and hearing his voice. I’d probably have a coronary if he’d stepped into the shower with me. I closed my eyes, just imagining how good he probably looked naked, water dripping down his torso. A lot better than me, that was for sure. The image of his bare chest and abs was still ingrained into my memory from last night when he’d made a drunken effort to undress.
Finishing up, I stepped out and wrapped my hair and body in towels before emerging from the bathroom. Conor sat on my couch, still wearing nothing but his trousers, his feet bare on the carpet. For a moment I found it hard to form words, so struck by the image of him in my small home. It had been forever since I had a man around, and him being here gave me pleasant tingles in the pit of my stomach.
Sensing my presence, he turned his head. The warmest, most devastatingly handsome smile graced his lips. His eyes started at my feet before slowing rising up my body. “All done?” he asked, a gravelly quality to his voice.
I nodded and cleared my throat. “I’ll just grab you some clean towels.”
Turning, I went to the linen closet, grabbing two fresh towels before leaving them in the bathroom for him. When I emerged he was standing just outside the door. I stepped out of his way. “It’s all yours,” I said, unable to meet his probing gaze. “There should still be hot water. I didn’t use much.”
“Thanks,” he replied gruffly and moved by me into the bathroom.
Once he shut the door behind him, I exhaled heavily and went into my room. Throwing off the towel, I put on some underwear before covering up in my long, silky kimono wrap. It reached my calves and had a floral design. It was also one of the sexiest things I owned. Normally, I’d put on a hoodie and lounge pants, but thinking about Conor had me reaching for the kimono almost instinctively.
Digging through my wardrobe, I found an old, oversized black T-shirt for him to wear and left it on the couch. I quickly brushed out my hair, leaving it to airdry, then went to the kitchen to start on breakfast. I’d just placed several strips of bacon on the pan and was grabbing the eggs, bread, cheese and hot sauce from the fridge when I heard the bathroom door open.
“That smells amazing,” Conor said as he appeared, wearing only a towel tucked around his waist. I glanced at him briefly, not expecting to be hit with the sheer intensity of the sight of him freshly showered and topless, then glanced at him again. For the life of me I couldn’t look away.
Finally, I managed an awkward, “There’s a T-shirt on the couch. It’s clean and I think it should fit you.”
His eyes were curious as he studied me. He glanced over his shoulder then back to me. “It’s not an old boyfriend’s, is it?”
My eyes bugged, “No, of course not! I would never…um, it’s just an oversized one I used to sleep in.”
His expression warmed. “Okay, I guess I can wear it then.”
“You should get dressed now. The food will be ready in a few minutes.”
At this, one edge of his mouth curled in a smirk. “You seem eager for me to cover up. Don’t like what you see?”
“More like the opposite problem,” I muttered under my breath then panicked when I saw his smirk deepen.
He surveyed me confidently as he took a step closer. I felt like holding up the spatula to defend myself against his unfair sexiness. Instead, I turned around and focused on the bacon. “There’s coffee if you want some, and there’s orange juice in the fridge.” It was all I could do not to squeak when I felt his hard, warm chest meet my back as his arms slipped easily around my waist.
“I have these faint memories of begging you to let me into your bed last night. Should I be embarrassed?” he murmured, resting his chin on my shoulder. His scent invaded me. I felt surrounded by him, a swirl of desire stirring low in my belly.
“You did do that, but it’s fine. You were drunk.”
“Hmm, don’t think I need to be drunk to want in your bed,” he replied huskily and butterflies erupted inside me.
“Conor, go get dressed,” I managed past a shaky breath.