Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Miss Renee,” he whispers, grabbing me suddenly and pulling me closer. “If I send you home feeling that way, I’ll drop down in a pile of dirt and give you a hundred mud angels on the dirtiest part of this island.”
Holy hell.
He’s too good at this when he wants to be.
I’m glad my strange, sexy stalker man doesn’t look down as he lets me go, or he’d have enough ammo to make my life miserable for the whole trip.
God help me, my pigs are already scrunched up in my shoes.
4
The Anti-Date (Brock)
Yesterday she was beautiful and gutsy and unpredictable, but I never gave her another thought past needing a review.
Today, it really sinks in. The more time I spend with Piper Renee, the harder it is not to notice how sharp she is too—whenever she’s not goofing off like she’s reverted to age ten.
“Holy shit, a petrel!” Piper goes charging into the waves for the dozenth time, chasing this huge blue-and-white sea bird gliding off the shore.
I watch her from my dry spot on the beach as a wave surges in and pushes her back, sending an entire gaggle of birds up into the sky.
I hope her phone’s waterproof. The last thing I need is the damn thing failing and her pestering me to overload my phone with bird videos as a backup.
I’d join her, except I’m in slacks and a button-down shirt.
I was smart enough to leave my jacket in my office today, but stripping down to jump in the water would probably not help my review case.
It’s hard enough keeping my eyes on this woman without my dick turning into a magnet that wants to steer me into her.
So I sit on a rock just where the ocean stops lapping at my feet, glowering, wondering if there was ever a time in my life where I had as much fun as her in full bird dork mode.
Another huge wave crashes against her. She darts under the water, just long enough to make me nervous.
I stand up, looking around.
Goddamn, don’t tell me I have to play lifeguard, too?
But she bursts out of the water, her smile lit by the high noon sun, that blond hair shimmering and tangled around her shoulders.
“Aren’t you coming in?” she yells, splashing with her hand.
My cock jerks, warning me my very survival is at stake.
Christ, this woman.
Her dress is so soaked it’s basically see-through and clinging to her skin, showing off every curve I’d enjoy tracing with my tongue. Water sparkles across her cleavage like small diamonds, begging to be licked off.
Fuck me to hell, it’s impossible not to stare.
I’d have an easier time getting my eyes plucked out by the fishing birds soaring higher now, circling in neat formation.
“Whatever, Brock! Your loss.” With a pout that turns her lips into a ripe strawberry, she flings water in my direction.
“I should have dressed lighter before we set out,” I lie. “The winds can be unpredictable around here and I thought layers would work best.”
“Aw, so what? It’s only lunchtime. Let’s go back to the hotel so you can change.”
The longing look she gives me slices me in two.
“This day isn’t about me, Miss Renee. I’m in Lanai constantly. This is all about making sure you’re able to soak in the best this island has to offer,” I say firmly.
And about ensuring I don’t fall face-first into a sexual harassment lawsuit by doing something monumentally stupid with a guest who’s already seen me nude.
I rip my face away, pretending to watch a few more birds launching themselves into the sky off the rocks.
I could use her bird nerdery right now. I fucking need it when her tits are damn near glowing with the silver water foaming around her.
“Come on! We’re not that far from the resort, right? I can’t have fun with a stick-in-the-mud tour guide,” she calls.
“You were doing a pretty good job of it this morning,” I yell back.
She throws her arms up. “Who am I kidding? I always make my own fun, but I feel a little guilty that you aren’t enjoying yourself. That’s killing the vibe.”
So she’s pure empath, too.
That’s one difference I’m grateful for. I’m well aware my own emotional IQ rivals an earthworm sometimes.
Whatever else she is—and that definitely includes annoying—Miss Renee is the type who manages to squeeze fun out of pure misery.
The influencer gig must be the perfect job for her. She isn’t lacking the enthusiasm.
She bounces up and down again in the water, coming closer, flinging more droplets my way that fall hopelessly short.
“Is that it? You’d better work on your aim,” I say sharply.
“Orrr I could just dunk you since you’re changing anyway.” Before I can react, she lunges forward, throwing a palmful of water that hits its mark.
A growl boils up my throat when I look down.