Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Oh, she did, did she?”
“Yep.” I smile into my drink, feeling proud of my crisis-management-while-being-flirty skills.
We stare at each other as the air between us swirls with an energy that I haven’t felt before.
“Can I see you tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Grocery shopping will do.”
He bursts out laughing and sets us both off again.
“I’m sorry, we are closing the restaurant,” the waiter says as he places the check wallet onto the table.
“Yes, of course.”
I go to grab it, but Henley snaps it up. “I’m paying.”
“No, you’re not. We will go halves.”
“Shut up.”
“No.”
“You can pay tomorrow night,” he offers.
“When we go to buy my groceries?”
He laughs and sets us off again, and the waiter rolls his eyes from the corner.
“Stop it.” Henley tries to act serious as he gets his wallet out. “The waiter hates us.”
“Because we’re funnier than him.”
“This is true,” he agrees. “We are.”
He pays the bill and takes my hand in his. Electricity shoots up my arm, and as if he feels it, too, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it as we stare at each other.
What’s happening right now?
We walk out through the front doors, and suddenly the pressure is on again.
Do I be a good girl, or do we go home together?
“Did you drive?” I ask.
“No, Uber.”
“Me too.”
He stares down at me, and I know the very same questions are rolling around in his head. Be a gentleman or throw me across a park bench and have his wicked way with me?
I’m voting for option two.
“Cab?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Damn it, he’s going for option one.
Gentleman.
He puts his arm around me as we walk and pulls me close, and there’s a familiarity between us. This feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I had a good time tonight,” he says as we walk.
“Me too.” I smile goofily. “I’m already excited about going grocery shopping tomorrow.”
He arrives at a busy corner and stops at the traffic lights, and he turns me toward him.
“Is this where you kiss me?” I ask.
“I don’t know, is it?”
I nod. “Probably.”
Right here, in the middle of everyone, he takes my face in his hands. His lips softly brush against mine, and my feet float off the ground. We kiss again and again, and it’s like a wave of perfection comes crashing over us.
The lights change. People are rushing . . . but it’s the two of us lost in the moment. It’s not awkward, like a first kiss should be. It’s intimate and tender, something more.
He smiles against my lips and pulls me close, and we stand in each other’s arms for a moment.
“Henley.”
“Yeah.” He kisses my forehead.
“This is my best first date.”
“Until the next one.”
I giggle, and he gives me a sexy wink.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach because, holy crap, this is something.
We arrive at the taxi stand, and damn it, one is there waiting. He opens the back door for me and kisses me softly as he brushes the hair back from my face. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I smile shyly and get into the back seat, and he closes the door behind me.
I wave, and then before the car can drive away, he opens the car door and pulls me out by the hand. “Change of plans: you’re coming home with me.”
“What?”
He cuts me off with a kiss, and everyone in the cab line groans in disgust.
Lips locked, hormones in overdrive, we burst through the door of his apartment like animals.
Gone is the polite first-date Mr. James; we left him in the restaurant.
I like this version better.
All the way home in the Uber, he had his hand up my dress, and I think it’s fair to say that we are both very good to go.
“Get this fucking dress off,” he whispers as he struggles to unzip it. The zipper snags, and he tugs it hard.
I giggle at his impatience. “Who said I am a sure thing, anyway?”
“I did.” He tears my dress over my shoulders and throws it to the side.
“I don’t fuck on first dates.” I smirk as I put my hands on my hips, acting indignant.
“You do now.” The mood changes as his dark eyes sweep down over my body. Suddenly I’m nervous.
Because hell, this has been the best night, and I want it to have an even happier ending and blow his mind.
He puts his hand around my throat, steps forward, and puts his lips to my ear. “You are going to take my cock so fucking good,” he whispers. His breath brushes my ear and sends goose bumps up my spine. “Like the bad girl I know you want to be.”
My eyes widen. Fuck.
He talks dirty. . . shit, shit, shit.
With his hand in a viselike grip around my throat, he licks up the side of my face. “Are you creamy for me, baby?”