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)
“Come on,” he coaches me, “I need more information.”
“Umm.” I look up to the ceiling as I try to think of something else to tell him. “Nine . . . I didn’t like it when you left the other night.”
He falls serious. “Why not?”
“You can’t ask questions unless my answers count.”
“Last question. Why didn’t you like it when I left?”
“Because I liked having you inside of me.”
His eyes darken and drop to my lips. He leans back and adjusts himself in his jeans.
He liked that answer.
“Your turn,” I say.
“No, no, this was my quiz.”
“Oh no you don’t. Give me ten facts that I don’t know about you.”
He sits back in his chair as he thinks. “I also wish your dog wasn’t called Barry because it reminds me of the Bee Gees.”
I giggle.
“Never watched Game of Thrones.”
“You can’t just copy my answers,” I tell him.
“Hmm.” He twists his lips as he thinks. “Haven’t had a vacation in a very long time.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I like to listen to true-crime podcasts. I could get away with the perfect murder if I wanted to.”
“Don’t kill me.”
He raises his eyebrow, and I laugh.
“Let’s see . . .” He thinks again. “I think about fucking you . . . a lot.”
“I already know that.”
“Oh, do you now?”
“Uh-huh.” I smile goofily. “It’s obvious.”
He chuckles. “Is it? I thought I hid it well.”
“Not at all.”
“Umm, what else is there?”
I smile as I listen.
“Never been in love.”
Oh . . .
“Well, don’t fall in love with me,” I tease as I tap his glass with mine.
“No chance of that.” He smirks. “You’re hideous.”
“Facts.” I giggle. “Come on, more.”
“I . . .” He pauses.
“You what?”
He falls serious. “I didn’t want to leave the other night either.”
“So why did you?”
He twists his champagne glass on the table by the stem as he stares at it. “Because I’m fucked up.”
Progress.
I take his hand in mine and lift it to kiss his fingertips. “I don’t believe that.”
He puffs air into his cheeks, and I know that was a lot for him to admit. Quick, onto the next question before he can think too much.
“Okay, last one . . . What is the one fact I don’t know about you?” I smile playfully.
“The one thing?” he asks.
“The one thing.”
His eyes hold mine. “It’s my birthday.”
“What? Today?”
He nods shyly.
My heart swells. He chose to spend his birthday with me.
Oh . . .
“Happy birthday, baby.” I lean over and kiss him, and he kisses me back, and somehow this kiss is different. I don’t taste a hint of the game we’ve been playing.
It’s real and raw, somehow more.
Hand in hand, we walk up the corridor of the hotel and back to our room.
He glances down at my stilettos. “I like those shoes.”
“Do you?”
His tongue slips out and runs over his bottom lip as if imagining something. “They’re going to look great around my ears.”
I know.
I smile up at my beautiful date.
This has been the best night in the history of all time. We’ve talked and laughed and kissed and made out in the elevator.
Henley James is the all-time ultimate date: handsome, funny, witty, intelligent, and let’s not forget sexy as fuck.
The entire time we were having dinner tonight, I didn’t know whether to laugh, swoon, or just bend over the table. This friends-with-benefits position definitely has its perks. There’s no denying that spending a night with this god is like winning the jackpot.
But I want more.
And weirdly enough, my gut tells me that he does too.
He hasn’t said so, of course, but I can hear the silent words hidden within his sentences. It’s the things that he doesn’t say out loud, the things he doesn’t articulate, and I don’t know how, but I already know what he’s feeling.
He’s right here with me, lost in a perfect moment of clarity. How could he not be? Together we’re perfect, and it’s not even about the sex—and trust me, the sex is a lot.
It’s the conversation, the laughter, and the way we get each other’s jokes. It’s him wrapping me in his coat on the way home so I wasn’t cold, the way he listens when I talk. The way he holds my hand, and the goose bumps I get when he looks at me.
He could have gone anywhere in the world tonight, and yet he chose to spend his birthday with me.
“How long is this corridor?” I frown. “We’ve walked at least five miles.”
He gives me a sexy wink. “This is the warm-up.”
“For what?” I play dumb.
“Bedroom Olympics.”
I burst out laughing, and he does too, and then he stops at a door. “This is us.” He fiddles around with the key as I run my hand down over his firm behind. His hands still, and I take it as a sign and unzip his jeans. He glances up the corridor and then back to me.