Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
The detective told me he would contact me with new information. And although the blank phone tells me there’s nothing new to report, I have a deep-seated need to hear him tell me otherwise.
Distract.
I have to keep myself together here and not completely lose it.
After I tie my hair up high on my head, I wash my face free from the makeup I tried on at the store. Then I run a bath, sinking until my shoulders are underwater, and rest my head back on the towel I’m using as a pillow.
The more I relax, the more thoughts of Loch creep into my head. I don’t think I really processed what was happening at that exact moment, too stunned to move, too intrigued to walk away. From the water sheen highlighting his athletic muscles to the sound of him mixing with the pouring water. I thought he was humming, but now I think he was moaning.
There was more going on in that shower than getting clean. Loch was getting dirty.
Should I feel bad for interrupting? Probably.
Do I? Not really.
Images of Loch gliding his hands over his body have been running on replay in my mind all day. I close my eyes, wishing those hands were sliding over me. My chest gets heavy with each breath as sparks run through my veins like a live wire caught on fire.
His hand slipping between my legs, his mouth pressed to my neck. Hot whispers asking me how I like it—Oh God. Yes. Water splashes against the sides of the tub, my finger grabbing hold of the edges. “Tell me how you like it.”
Overheating, I force my eyes open, realizing I don’t know how to answer. You know, if he was asking me in real life instead of in a fantasy, what would I say? I have no idea.
I don’t even know if I’ve had sex. Have I?
Maybe . . .
Maybe not . . .
What if I get to experience it for the first time all over again?
I grin as I rest back again. A giggle erupts, and my cheeks start to hurt from smiling. It’s a ridiculous theory, and it doesn’t matter if I’m a virgin, but I could really have fun with it.
Speaking of fun, I reach for my phone and text: Hope your meetings have gone well today. I’ve been thinking about you.
Three dots roll across my screen, and then a message pops up: You’ve been thinking about me? Interesting. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Loch can be uptight. And I know we’re still figuring out what this is between us.
Would it be appropriate to tell him what was really on my mind? No.
Do I want to throw caution to the wind and do what feels good? Absolutely!
But I think it might be too soon to share my real thoughts or what I just imagined him doing to me in the tub. Though I’d love to see his face if I ever have the chance to tell him the truth. I’d be hit with those eyes and that look that wavers between tearing my clothes off and spanking me.
Huh . . . do I like that?
I don’t think so, but how do I know for sure? This is too much to deal with right now. I decide to tease him a bit and dance around the truth instead: I’m sorry I interrupted your shower.
I don’t feel bad in the least, but I think he already knows that. There’s a long pause before the next message pops up: I’m not.
He’s not?
My mouth drops open, but my fingers fly across the screen: Naughty, Mr. Westcott. Maybe I’m not ready for this. I might be in hot water, but I’m starting to get overheated. Before this gets out of hand, I add: Where are you taking me tonight?
Loch: A little place in the West Village. Be ready at 8. I’ll meet you in the lobby.
Me: It’s a date!
Me: Hey, Loch?
Loch: Yes?
Me: I’m still thinking about today.
. . .
Me: See you later.
I quickly exit out of messages and toss my phone on the rug just out of my reach. I’m not sure I want to see how he’ll respond to that.
I finish in the bath and dry off. I grab my phone and set it on the nightstand, deciding to lie down. Seeing Loch in the nude is enough to drive any woman to swoon, but I’ve also spent every minute of my day searching for clues to my identity.
With a slight headache, I’ve pushed myself too hard. And if resting gives me a better chance of getting some memories back, then I’m all in.
When I come downstairs, I look around for Loch, but I’m early enough to be here before him. I drape my coat over a nearby chair and wait, wanting him to see me in the full glory of this dress and the sparkling shoes.