Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“You want a drink?”
“You have soda?” I asked, laughing when he made a noise of disbelief.
“Do I have soda? Ha.” He opened the fridge and gestured like a model on a game show. “Pick your poison.”
The entire bottom half of his fridge was packed with different kinds of soda. He liked to pretend that they were all mixers, and he was a party animal, but I’d been to his parents’ house—they always had a fridge full of drinks too. He hadn’t been able to live without the luxury once he’d moved out.
“How’s work going?” I asked, grabbing my soda. “Still changing oil?”
“Don’t remind me,” he moaned. “Today, I added wiper fluid. Highlight of my career.”
“You’re such a whiner. You know what I did yesterday?”
“What?”
“I walked a little old lady around the store for almost an hour because she thought she wanted wood glue, but what she actually needed was super glue and we had to travel down every single aisle until she’d figured it out.”
“Was she nice?”
“She was batshit,” I exclaimed, throwing up my hands. “And I don’t know how she’s still driving because she could barely see two feet in front of her face.”
“I love old ladies,” Rumi replied with a grin.
“You only say that because they love you.” I rolled my eyes. “Like the ladies at the Laundromat.”
“I can’t help it that I’m charming.”
“Uh-huh.”
“They’re gonna miss me now that I’m washin’ my shit at home.”
“How’s that going?” I asked, leaning against the counter. “Buying appliances second hand is always a little dicey.”
“That reminds me,” he said with a sly smile. He held up one finger in a wait gesture and jogged toward the laundry room. Thirty seconds later, he came back and took the soda out of my hand and set it on the counter.
“Come on.” He tugged me toward the laundry room.
“Hey, it looks good in here,” I said, looking around the room in surprise. He’d set up the washer and dryer and added a small shelf to hold… motorcycle parts?
“Ignore those,” he ordered with a laugh. “I didn’t have anywhere else to put them and I wanted to remember where they were.” He glanced at the little light on the washing machine. “Okay, we’re about there.”
“About where?” I asked as he jerked me forward. “Whoa!”
“Give it a second,” he said when my ass landed on top of the washing machine.
“What am I doing up here?” I asked in confusion.
“Wait for it,” he murmured, his hands on my hips.
A bark of laughter left my mouth when the washing machine started to spin and thunk, thunk, thunked forward and back.
“Drum’s unbalanced,” he said with a laugh. “It put a dent in the wall—don’t tell Brody or he’ll shit.”
“Didn’t Micky help you with the sheetrock?”
“Yeah, but Brody painted, and he’s kind of precious about shit like that.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded.
“And I can fix it,” Rumi said wickedly, tilting his head from one side to the other. “But I knew you were coming over tonight, so I left it.”
“You want to have sex on this washing machine, don’t you?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I really, really do.”
“And you realize that real life isn’t like movies, correct?”
“I am aware of that, yes,” he said with a chuckle.
“Okay, then.” I shrugged and reached for my shirt, pulling it over my head. “Let’s do it.”
“You are my best friend in the entire world,” he said quickly, tearing his shirt over his head. “Have I told you that? Because you are.”
“Yep,” I replied, sliding off the washing machine so I could take off the rest of my clothes. Once I was fully naked, I hopped back onto the washing machine and leaned behind me to start the cycle again.
“What are you doing?” I spun my hand in a circle, gesturing for Rumi to hurry up.
“I am taking a snapshot,” he said quietly, his eyes slightly glazed.
“You’re what?” I laughed a little because the look on his face was so goofy.
He reached out and spread my thighs and then reached for my arms, sliding his hands down until he could brace my hands slightly behind my hips. Then he stepped back and stared.
“I’m assuming I can’t take a photo.”
“You’re goddamn right about that,” I shot back simply.
“So,” he continued like I hadn’t interrupted. “I’m taking a mental snapshot because I think this might be the sexiest thing I’ll ever see in my entire life.”
“You’ve got a weird hang up with laundry,” I murmured, but I couldn’t help the little zing of pleasure that made my cheeks warm.
“You’re just—” He shook his head. “I don’t know where to start.”
I lifted my hand and tapped my index finger against my chin like I was thinking hard. “On your knees,” I finally said, using my hand to brace myself again.
He dropped like a sack of potatoes to his knees and I burst out laughing until his lips met the inside of my thigh.