Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
She held the shirt out in front of her. It looked enormous next to her small torso. Then she folded it up. “Guess I’ve got a new sleep shirt.”
“Does that mean we have a deal?” My pulse and, hell, my cock was very interested in her answer.
“We do,” she said with a smirk, likely guessing the state I was in. The woman had balls—or whatever the female equivalent was. I had to give her that.
I willed my body to stand down as I continued to fold my clothes. Then all remaining lust fled the scene when I got to a pair of navy sweatpants. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The drawstring got pulled back inside of these sweatpants.”
She abandoned her laundry to come look. “Maybe it had performance anxiety.”
I rolled my eyes as I fiddled with the waistband of the stupid sweatpants.
“Give them here.”
Masking my surprise, I handed them over. “Trying to get into my pants?”
“Trying to get the drawstring out.”
She ran her fingers along the waistband until she located the knot at the end of the drawstring. It looked to be about eight inches from the opening. Kylie started maneuvering the fabric, inching the string along.
Shit, it was hot watching her handle my clothes. Not sure why—maybe I wished she was touching me instead of my stuff? Actually, there was no maybe about it.
I sat on the edge of the folding table as I watched her. “I’m surprised you’re not lecturing me.”
“It happens. Just remember to loosely tie the drawstring before you throw it in the washer next time.”
“Not about that. About me making a woman help with my laundry,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be opposed to that on a molecular level?”
She had a frown of concentration on her face as she made slow progress on the drawstring, and I thought at first that she wasn’t going to answer. “Would it help if I accused you of trying to make me into a 1950s housewife?”
“That would be a start. And then I’d smirk and say that it was doubtful because I’m pretty sure they didn’t go to bed naked.”
“Half naked,” she corrected, still intent on her work.
“How’s it going?”
“Slowly.” Her brow furrowed in an adorable way as she concentrated. “If only the tip was harder, it would be easier to slide it—” She broke off abruptly, realizing what she’d just said.
My smirk was so wide that it stretched my face, but then I shook my head. “You’re helping me, so I’ll let that one go without comment.”
She grinned, turning her attention back to the sweatpants. “It’s killing you not to say anything, right?”
“You have no idea. But I can be a gentleman when I have to be.” If your standards were extremely low as to how gentlemen were supposed to behave.
“Speaking of helping, you gave me your shirt, but you added a condition. I volunteered to fix your drawstring without any conditions at all.” She cocked her head to the side and looked up at me. “What does that tell you?”
“That you missed a good opportunity?”
She laughed. “That would be the lesson you’d take from it.”
Wouldn’t anyone? “What lesson did you have in mind?”
“That friends help each other without any ulterior motives.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
The tip of Kylie’s cute pink tongue was between her teeth as she focused on the sweatpants. It looked as if she’d almost fished the string out. “You helped me once,” she said quietly.
“Did I? I must be slipping.”
She ignored that. “It was the first night I got here. You carried my stuff up from the car even though you didn’t want me to stay.”
I bit back the words that sprang to mind, but they refused to be silenced. Finally, I said, “To be honest, I didn’t not want you to stay, either.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, a hot chick shows up in our room and tries to kiss me—that’s not exactly the kind of thing I’m opposed to. But it just seemed complicated with our scholarships and all that.” I grinned. “Plus I really did think you were going to cramp our style.”
Her eyebrows rose even as warmth flooded her cheeks. “And have I?”
“Hell no. And you’ve made bedtime much more fun.”
She grinned at that. Since the first time, we’d engaged in a few other bedtime stories, so to speak. Jude was the best at them, being a creative type, but Kylie seemed to enjoy it when I added naughty details. Or at least the moans from her bed increased. The thought of her touching herself while wearing my shirt made my cock stir.
Kylie’s smile was ear to ear when she finally coaxed the damn drawstring out of the pants. She folded them carefully and handed them back to me.
“Nice,” I said after examining them. “Good thing you have such little fingers.”
“And patience,” she said. That was something I certainly didn’t have, so if she wanted to celebrate having it, more power to her.