Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Hunter: Nice. I was starting to worry you were blowing me off.
His apartment was a few doors down from the elevator, so I let myself in before responding again.
Nat: I still have an hour to reconsider. Anything can happen…
Hunter: How about you spend that hour getting undressed and thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you when I get home.
Now that was tempting. I bit my bottom lip and played with him a little.
Nat: You’re not even going to feed me first?
The dots started to jump around, then stopped, then started again.
Hunter: I’d give you the visual of what I just imagined feeding you, but we need to stop texting or I’m not going to be able to walk off this plane in a few minutes without embarrassing myself.
Oh my. He didn’t have to describe it, my own image was just as vivid. Another text came in before I could respond.
Hunter: See you soon.
Sigh. I left my suitcase at the front door and walked to the balcony. I pulled the cord to open the privacy blinds that covered the glass doors and appreciated the spectacular view. It was odd to be inside Hunter’s apartment by myself. After a bit of city gazing, I decided to look around a little. And by look, I mean snoop.
It wasn’t his home, so the place was pretty bare of personal belongings. Yet that didn’t stop me from checking out his medicine cabinet. An extra box of toothpaste, large bottle of mouthwash, unopened vitamins, two untouched deodorants—pretty much just the basics. Although I suppose if he had medicines, they’d likely have traveled with him, so I wasn’t really learning anything. In the bedroom, there was a fair amount of clothes in the closet, and the chest of drawers had the usual assortment of socks and underwear. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much else to look at—other than the nightstand.
The one on the far side of the room was empty. I was just about to call my little snooping session a bust when I stopped at the other nightstand. Slipping it open with my pointer finger, I hit pay dirt. Inside was a bag, sitting on top of some papers. I took note of how the bag had been placed inside and then lifted it to check out the contents. Inside was the largest box of condoms I’d ever seen, a bottle of lubricant that could be heated, and…bath bombs. I swooned seeing that Hunter had picked up the same scent as I had soaked with earlier today—sweet pea. It also made me happy that the only condoms in the apartment seemed to be an unopened box that he’d purchased with me in mind.
Before replacing the bag, I fingered through the papers, being careful not to disrupt them too much. Inside was a short-term lease agreement for the company-owned apartment, a rental car agreement, and a piece of mail addressed to Hunter. As I started to place the bag back where I’d taken it from, I happened to notice the postmark on the envelope—which had been mailed almost ten years ago. Scanning the return address, I recognized the name—Jayce Delucia—Hunter’s brother. I knew he’d died years ago. My hand rubbed at a spot on my chest, feeling emotional that Hunter carried around an old letter from his dead brother. He wasn’t just a handsome guy blessed with natural charm—he was a man of many layers. And unlike most men, the more I looked beneath the surface, the more I liked what I saw.
I was a snooper, but I wasn’t a total asshole, so I put the letter from his brother back and arranged the drawer the way it had been before sliding it shut. I had no idea what to do with myself after that. Hunter wouldn’t be here for another forty-five minutes, at least, so I decided to call Anna. It would be fun to play guess where I am.
“My nipples are killing me,” she said as she answered, rather than hello.
Nothing surprised me with her. “Well, okay then. That’s where this conversation is going. I was going to take it in a different direction, but I can work with this. How’s your asshole doing?”
She groaned. “Seriously, why can’t men be the ones to produce milk? I mean, we do everything. I carried this little pipsqueak for ten months, popped her out of my tiny little vagina, and now my tits are killing me because all she does is suck on them all day.” I heard a sweet little yelp in the background when she finished her rant.
“Is that my niece?”
“It is.” Her voice softened. “She sucks like a Hoover.”
“Aww. I miss you guys. Tell me what she’s up to these days. Is she walking? Talking?” I joked.
“Not quite. But she’s got pooping and sucking down pretty good.”