Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Is what we’re doing actually casual? Or are we just calling it that?”
I hesitate. There’s something in her tone I can’t quite pin down. She sounds afraid. But of what, I can’t say. Is she afraid I’ll say ‘yes’? Or is she afraid I’ll say ‘no’?
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s casual. Why wouldn’t it be?”
She nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just making sure.”
We lay like that for a minute or two.
“Um, hey,” she says. “Do you mind carrying me to the bathroom? My Grams always said if you don’t pee after sex, you will get another U2 album automatically added to your phone.”
“What?” I ask.
She grins. “Can you just carry me to the bathroom?”
I scoop her up. Her jeans and panties are still bundled around her bad leg. Neither of us wanted to try to yank them down around her swollen ankle or bother unwrapping the ice pack.
“This might be a low point for my dignity,” she says, laughing. She puts both hands between her legs, covering herself.
I set her on the toilet. “Want me to wait outside?” I ask.
“You’re not going to stand there and watch me pee, Nolan. Out.” She points to the door. “But wait right outside the door. You’re gonna have to carry me back to the bed when I’m done.”
I laugh. “Alright.”
I stand outside the door and put my back against it. I run my hand down my face. What the hell am I trying to accomplish here, exactly? More and more, I’m wondering if Mia is harboring some feelings she isn’t letting on. But isn’t it best if we both keep that shit to ourselves? Is there really a version of us being together that isn’t worse for both of us?
“Ready!” she calls.
I find her sitting on the toilet with her pants pulled up. She lowers her eyes to my bare lower half. “Okay. Now I don’t feel the lack of dignity so much with your business all out like that.” She smiles, then crooks her head to the side. “How is that even comfortable? Like you guys just walk around all day with that thing hanging there. Doesn’t it get in the way?”
I grin. “I usually forget it’s there. Until I’m around you, at least.”
She bites her lip and steps closer, eyes still fixed between my legs. She reaches out and touches it gently, making a pleasant chill run up my spine. “Such a little thing that causes so much trouble,” she muses.
“Did you just call my dick little?” I laugh.
Her smile is devious. “Proportionally speaking,” she corrects. “As far as penises go, yours is very impressive.” She goes on her tiptoes, one hand still gripping me as she kisses the tip of my chin, still smiling. “That’s what guys like to hear, right? Your cock is a monument to all female desire. It’s one of the seven wonders of the world, probably visible from outer space. It violates air traffic control laws in fourteen states. It–”
“Mia,” I say, cutting her off with a finger to her lips. “I’m kidding. You can say whatever the hell you want about my cock, as long as you keep coming back to ride it. I frankly don’t give a shit.”
She chews her lip, gripping it tighter as I feel it swelling and pulsing against her hand. She brings her mouth to my neck, which is as close as she can get to my ear from her height. “I could be convinced to take another ride.”
I smile. “If you keep touching it like that, I’m just going to carry you to the bed and set you down on it–convincing be damned.”
She arches an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
I pick her up, take her to the bed, and pull off my shirt.
“Okay, then,” she says, reaching for her zipper with a smile.
28
MIA
Ispend most of my time at Taste lately. Marten’s dad and his nasty review did cause a little dip in reservations for a while, but it hasn’t been permanent. When Marten came by a few days ago to gloat about the damage his dad’s interview did, he had to fight his way through the crowded lobby and wait several minutes before one of us could come out to hear what he had to say.
Zander happily told him to go fuck himself and feel free to have his dad come back any time. Marten left in a huff, from what I heard.
With Nolan spending more time at the restaurant and our hour-long experimental sessions after work, people can’t seem to get enough of the restaurant. Nolan’s agent was also able to arrange for several influential critics to come eat at the restaurant and write about their impressions. Between the good food and the positive feedback in magazines, websites, and even a few TV shows, business is absolutely booming.