Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Even though Chase and Harrison should be here shortly, I keep going with my packing project, switching to my dresser. With another big box ready to be filled, I start at the bottom drawer and pull out my shorts and capris. My hips are moving and from this squatting position, I’m able to whip out a solid twerk (even though I despise twerking). With each drawer that I empty, I add in a few more suggestive rolls of my hips and butt wiggles. By the time I’ve reached my top drawer, I’m in full-on dance competition mode. I’m singing at the top of my lungs, grinding my hips, and shaking my ass, while dropping thongs and bras into the box.
I’m just working my way up from a drop when I catch movement in my peripheral vision. When I glance up, I find Chase staring at me in the mirror. I startle, a scream pulling from my lungs, and the panties in my hand go flying. Of course, when I jump, I end up catching my leg on the corner of my bed and stumble to my side. I’m kept from going down, however, by strong arms with a fresh soapy scent. “Easy there, killer,” Chase whispers, just barely above the music.
“What are you doing here?” I yell, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I reach for my phone to turn down the music.
“I’m enjoying the hell out of the show,” he replies, that stupid smirk on his too-handsome face.
I cross my arms over my chest and glare. Chase only repeats the movement, leaning his broad frame against the doorjamb and smiling widely. “How did you get in here?”
“A key.”
“How did you get a key?” I ask, one eyebrow rising in question.
“I have my ways,” he replies loosely, not giving anything away.
“Give it to me,” I state, reaching my hand forward.
“Right here and now? Okay, Gabrielle, whatever you want? Would you like it on the bed or maybe against the wall? You seem like you’d really appreciate it against the door,” he replies, his voice all deep and husky. I instantly picture exactly what he’s referring to. My legs wrapped around his waist as he gives it to me hard and fast.
Shit, don’t think about that!
I clear my throat, desperately swiping away those vivid images that suddenly seem to have grown roots in my brain. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You can’t say stuff like that to me, Chase. We’re friends, remember?” Why does my voice sound all breathy?
Chase steps forward, invading my personal space. Even though the desire to step back is strong, I hold my ground and don’t move. I don’t want him to know how much he actually affects me. “Yes, I do recall the ‘friends’ conversation. That’s the reason we stopped at the hardware store and grabbed you a new lock.” He takes a half step closer, our bodies practically touching. “But what I was thinking when I saw you dancing a few moments ago? That was anything but friendly.”
A shiver sweeps through my body, and dammit, I can’t help it, I glance down. Chase may be wearing a pair of old, form-fitting Levi’s, but there’s no mistaking the outline of a very impressive erection within that denim. My mouth suddenly dries like the Sahara. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I know he’s playing some stupid game, trying to get me all flustered and worked up, but it’s not going to work. I’m not going to let him get under my skin like that.
He’s already there…
Oh, shut up.
I really need to stop talking to myself.
With a quick shake of my head, I stand up tall, steeling my back. “Are you here to help me move or are you going to run your mouth all night?” I ask, crossing my arms again. When I do, my elbows bump into his very hard, very muscular abs. All eight of them.
Again, he smirks. “Oh, sweet Gabrielle, the things I can do with my mouth,” he quips breezily, crossing his own arms over his chest and bumping into me as he does. “But, I’m not here to fulfill your wildest and dirtiest dreams, princess. I’m here to help you move into my bedroom.”
“Your guest bedroom,” I remind sternly.
“Potato, potahtoh,” he sasses. “So, stop trying to seduce me and let me carry all these boxes out to my truck.” He claps his hands and takes a step back, glancing around at the stacks around the room. “All of these go?”
“All of these in here, yes,” I reply, glancing around. “The garbage bags over there will go to the dumpster and those in the hall to the resale shop. I was going to load them in my car and take them on my lunch break tomorrow, but I still have to figure out what I’m doing about that problem,” I add, suddenly remembering that I really have to figure out what’s wrong with my car and if I want to spend the money fixing it or not.