Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“For the last time, they are not trafficked. They are perfectly still. I am half-tempted to take you there right now and show you they’re chilling, happy as clams in their cages. The Tiger King wishes he were me.”
She bit down on her lower lip, suppressing a laugh.
This seemed like the perfect time to cash in my bet prize. Actually, every time seemed like the perfect time. I wanted to reach over and kiss her. To strip her. To drag my lips from her mouth all the way down to her toes. To bury my face between her legs and get lost in her. I was stupid for this woman. A perfect dumbass. Not a pretend one, this time. For real.
And I. Did. Not. Care.
But no. I wouldn’t use my prize until the right time.
We stared at each other for a beat, thinking the same thing.
“So.” Briar shook her head, clearing her throat. “The wedding is going to take place and so will the duet.”
“And the dance. Don’t forget the dance.”
“It’s going to be embarrassing,” she warned. “That’s the point, though. It’s a feature. Not a bug.”
Silly Cuddlebug, I wanted to laugh. You can never embarrass me.
The teacher opened the door. The unholy number of bracelets that clung to her wrist clanged together in a symphony of metal, announcing her arrival.
“I’m back,” she sing-songed. “Did you have a chance to practice your aural skills?”
“Twice a day.” I threw a thumb in Briar’s direction. “And that’s on a bad day when she just wants quickies.”
My fake fiancée immediately went red, but the teacher laughed.
“Oh, my goodness.” Jillian-Jessica fanned herself. “This one’s a keeper, isn’t he?”
“Honey, for the last time, it’s not about the number of times, it’s about the skill.” Briar patted my arm with a condescending smile, before throwing the teacher a grave look. “He goes at it like a dog with a bone who hasn’t eaten at all this year.”
I choked-coughed into my fist. “I’ve heard no complaints about my performance.”
“That’s because you like shoving your dirty underwear into my mouth. By the way, I’d love it if you could stop.”
Holy shit. She was trying to out-embarrass me. Beat me at my own game. It was impossible, of course. I had a Ph.D. in being crass. No one could out-crass me.
“Light of my life.” I caressed her shoulder, and she shivered under my fingertips, just like I knew she would. “They’re called kitchen towels, and you’re not supposed to eat them. We’ll get you civilized, though. You’re almost there. Almost.” I flashed our teacher a winning smile. “She’s fully potty trained and already knows how to sing her ABCs, thanks to Ms. Rachel. Can you believe she’s the same woman who lost her memory just a few weeks ago and reverted to her 18-month-old self?”
The vocal coach drew a hand to her chest with a dreamy sigh. Briar growled, stomping on my toes. A low grumble danced in my stomach.
“Okay, where were we?” The teacher looked around, disoriented. “Oh, yes. We were going to work on our humming.”
We did that for the rest of the hour. Humming. Moaning. Groaning. Grunting. Briar remained the color of a ripe strawberry the entire time. When we finished, she slid into the passenger seat and buckled up.
As soon as the teacher waved goodbye through the window, Briar’s easy smile morphed into a scowl.
Still determined to hate me, I see.
“I’m going to New York tomorrow,” she announced.
“I believe you meant we are going to New York,” I corrected her. “No way am I leaving my gorgeous fiancée to fall prey to city fuckboys unattended.”
“Aw.” She flashed me a fake smile. “How gross. Well, this is for work. I’m meeting the two actors I’ll be working with on my next project, and I need to be completely focused to make sure I meet their needs and boundaries. As you can see, I’m fine and fully functioning.” She motioned to where her wound used to be. “No reason for us to continue this charade when people aren’t looking, just to piss each other off.”
“I’m not doing this to piss you off.” I frowned, starting the car. “It’s just a really nice bonus.”
With a sigh, she popped the glove compartment open and grabbed some gum. “Either way, you are not coming.”
“Joke’s on you. I just did from watching you merely breathe.”
“Gross.”
“Romantic.”
“Just tell me you understand that you absolutely cannot come to New York tomorrow, okay? The production company booked me a hotel for an overnight stay.”
“My driver will take you,” I bargained without really answering her question. No way would I not check in on her. The woman just woke up from a coma.
She opened her mouth, about to argue, before realizing I’d never back down. “Fine. So, you won’t come?”
“Did I ever tell you that you look pretty today?”