Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Good. They have an extra ticket so it can be you and me and Emma.”
The sound of that makes my chest warm up, maybe even do a happy dance. Perhaps it’s the endorphins talking, but I wiggle a brow, feeling bold with him, taking another chance. “Is she our cover?”
A grin spreads slow and easy as he runs a hand down my chest possessively. “Yes. But I’m probably going to have to tell her we have a thing. Easier that way. Plus, she’ll probably figure it out. I tend to let down my guard with my good friends, and all it’ll take is me looking at you the way I like to and she’ll know. You cool with that?”
I hear the subtext—we agreed to tell no one. So, this breaks that rule.
But I like the subtext.
I like his hand on my chest.
I like how we are together.
“How do you like to look at me?” I ask, since I’m a glutton for compliments.
One searing-hot stare is his answer. “Like that, rookie. Like that,” he growls, his hand spreading across my pecs, curling over them.
“I'm cool with that,” I answer.
He drops a kiss to my jawline, rubbing his chin across my stubble. “It’ll kind of be like a date.”
And that’s another first for me too. “I'm looking forward to it,” I say in the understatement of my lifetime.
I’m looking so damn forward to it I wish it were tomorrow night now so I could go out with Declan Steele.
Then he pushes up on his elbow. “You want to talk about tomorrow?”
My brow creases. “About hockey? Pretty sure I know how hockey works. You hit the puck into a net, and it’s awesome, but baseball is better.”
“You’re all good there. But no. I meant sex, Grant. Your list. Our plans.”
My skin tingles. I love talking about sex with him. It’s freeing, but kind of terrifying too. “Sure,” I say on a rough swallow, waiting for him to go next.
He sets a hand on my hip, then slides it down to my ass, absently curving his palm over my skin. “Sex is better if you talk about it. Communication and all,” he begins.
“Right. Sure. At least, that’s what I’ve read online. I’m a master at reading articles on sex,” I say, pushing out a laugh, maybe to cover up my inexperience.
“Good. That’s all part of communication. But listen, it might not be perfect. It might hurt,” he says, gently squeezing my butt. “We can stop at any point.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I say, at the speed of light. Is he calling this off? Panic kicks in, swirling in my chest. “Do you want to?”
Please say no.
His brown eyes flash with affection. “Did you not hear me when I said I’m into you? Did you not feel me thirty minutes ago when I was playing with your ass? When I wanted so desperately to be inside you?”
Inside me.
He’s doing it again. Turning me on, breaking me down, making me ache for him.
I ache everywhere.
As the memories roar back, my hands skim over his hard body. “I was definitely there.”
“You know I want you, Grant,” he says in a firm voice that’s like a line in the sand. It says don’t question my desire.
“Yeah, I know that, Deck. It’s just . . .” I can’t finish because the words are so foreign. I just like you so much I don’t want to screw up. You fascinate me and I can’t fucking believe you’re into me too. I can’t believe you’re the first guy I’m going to sleep with, and that makes me feel like I won a World Series. Which is a crazy thing to think, but there it is.
“You’re nervous?” he asks.
But maybe that’s it too. Simple, pedestrian nerves. The basic human fear of not wanting to make a mistake. I grit my teeth, breathe through my nostrils, then admit it. “Yeah,” I say, and my chest lightens instantly. My jaw unclenches. Maybe this is some of what’s winding me up. The will-it-live-up-to-the-hype uncertainty. Since he’s talking so openly with me, I dip my toe in those waters. “You know I told you I watched porn?”
“A very normal thing to do,” he says.
“And the guys, at least the kind I watch, are just all so . . .”
“Perfect? With perfect bodies? Perfect cocks? Perfect loads?”
I laugh. “Yeah, all that.” But quickly, I stop laughing. “Only, it’s not about the bodies. It's more that they all have . . . perfect moves.”
“I hear ya, rookie. Keep talking.”
“It all goes so perfectly. When they switch positions and stuff. When one dude flips the other to his back or his side, or all fours. They’re all like boom. Back at it. And the second the bottom has a dick in his ass, he’s all like yes, so good. And I kinda feel like . . . what if I just don’t know what to do? What if it’s not like that? What if I don’t feel that way or make you feel that way?”