Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Should I eat it on the way or save it for later?” Weaver asks, circling around to open the passenger’s door for me—another first.
I stop, staring at the open door, my stomach flipping.
He’s changing everything. Pretty soon I won’t be able to live my life without reminders of Weaver around every corner.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Does the car still smell like herring?”
I shake my head and force a smile. “No. I just…” I lift my chin to meet his gaze. “No one’s ever opened a car door for me before. Or any door, I don’t think.”
He rests his hand on my waist, fingers molding to the curve of my hip beneath my slinky black dress. Technically, I opted out of a costume for our Halloween party this year, since I had to be dressed for a fancy dinner right after, but these clothes feel as much like a costume as my Bigfoot suit from last year.
I’ve never worn anything like this before. The silky cotton of the dress hugs my every curve, with a deep V in the front that reveals a scandalous amount of cleavage and a slit up the right side, all the way to the thigh. Paired with a fake fur coat from Elaina’s well-stocked closet and a pair of relatively sensible high heels from Maya’s—she’s seven inches shorter, but we wear the same size shoe—and I look like a completely different person.
I look glamorous, posh, expensive…
Staring at my reflection in the mirror earlier, I knew I should feel confident as hell in these clothes, but…I don’t. This is just a costume, a disguise. The real me is the girl in oilskin pants and a waterproof slicker, with her hair up in a knot and Carmex caked on her lips to keep the worst of the chapping at bay.
He knows that. And he likes her, too, the inner voice whispers as Weaver bends to kiss me again, making my head spin.
The kiss is firm, but also careful. He’s doing his best not to smear my lipstick, I realize, and for some reason that makes me feel better.
Weaver sees me, he really does, and so far, he seems to like every side of me— from the goofy girl who made him watch cartoons in bed, to the kinky woman who relishes making love like we’re locked in a wrestling match between the sheets.
When he pulls away from the kiss, he murmurs, “I’m just getting started, woman. Tonight, I’m going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
I rest my hands on his strong chest and tilt my head back. In my best flirty voice, the one I’ve only brought out for him, I ask, “Does that mean you won’t be tying me to the headboard and spanking me if I come too soon?”
His gaze takes on that predatory quality I’ve come to love. “Oh no, I’ll definitely be doing that. You deserve to be tied up for making me wait five extra minutes out here by the dumpster.”
I smile. “It was Elaina’s fault. It took a while to find the lint roller to get all the cat hair off my dress.”
He shakes his head and mutters, “Excuses, excuses.”
My grin widens. “You’re right. And I promise to accept my punishment with a positive attitude.” I pinch the taut skin at the side of his waist before adding in a whisper, “And plenty of screaming.”
He laughs and swats my bottom before putting a hand to my elbow and helping me into the passenger’s seat. I don’t need the help—I’m steady on my feet, even in borrowed heels—but I enjoy it.
It’s sort of like men in general. I don’t need a boyfriend, but after this past week with Weaver…I really want one.
I want someone to talk to at the end of a long day, someone who makes me laugh, challenges my assumptions, and enjoys snacks at midnight as much as I do. I want orgasms and pleasure and the perfect ease I feel when I’m lying on Weaver’s chest after we’ve made love.
I want someone to hold me the way he holds me, like I’m his favorite person in the world.
But I’m not his favorite person. Not really.
I’m a temporary distraction, a fuck buddy, and I can’t forget that for a moment. If I do, I’m going to lose my heart to this man.
Glancing at his sexy profile as he guides the car out of the alley and onto the main road leading out of town, I fear it might already be too late. But I’m not going to let that ruin our night.
There will be plenty of time to regret falling head over heels for the wrong man when Weaver is gone.
But for now, he’s here.
And he’s mine.
I reach out, slipping my hand into his, loving the way he squeezes my palm tight as we gain speed, zooming past the city limits into the cool, starry night.