Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
That fact hadn’t crossed my mind before then. On the cab ride back, the bikini burned a hole in my bags, taunting me the whole way to slip it on, meet Sunny in the hot tub, and...
My imaginings ended there.
The last guy I was with was a certain sociopathic pimp. Wonder of wonders, guys weren’t turned on by my homeless status, so the offers dried up after I escaped Luca. It felt like I was relearning all of this—flirting, attraction, teasing, sex—with an expert. How could I hope to keep up? There was rust on my moves.
Back in Sunny’s loft, Ms. Fuller confirmed he took a soak break for lunch and then went back up.
“He’s waiting for you, Mackenzie.” She said that without smirk, smile, or trace of teasing, and still, I reddened down to my toes. “I’ll have cold drinks sent up in a bit. Pineapple mojitos sound good?”
“Yummy. Virgin for me.”
And then it happened. A slow smile curved her mouth, turning on a glint in her eyes as she looked me up and down. “Really? I’ll send up two. Sunny likes those as well.”
My jaw about hit the carpet. She strode off, leaving Sienna cracking up at the expression on my face. “I think I love her.”
“I think I’m spending the afternoon with a book instead.”
“Don’t be silly.” Sienna steered me to my new bedroom. “Sunny’s waiting for you.”
She prodded me inside and shut the door. My feet sank in the plush carpet, inviting me in as the whole room did. Everything was an upgrade from the tent, even so, there was something about the space that made it feel like it was meant for me long before Sunny and I met.
That day at Jasmine Threads I bought canvas sneakers printed with world maps. On the wall above the bed, a massive world map hung in the same place as the tiny one I kept above my bed in my old apartment. Mine was marked with the places I hoped a fashion career would take me. This one was marked by the places I guessed Sunny had been.
I wished the similarities between us ended there. Sunny hung up signed band posters and four out of five of them were my all-time favorites. The soft green bedspread was like lying on my favorite-colored cloud. The furniture pieces were a mix of modern and antique, the kind of mismatch I built a career on. If I had bought this place and designed it with the same unlimited budget, I can’t say it’d differ much from this.
Not letting myself think too hard, I changed into my cute, green lotus swimsuit and went off in search of Sunny. The apartment Fuller directed me to was empty, but furnished. A bit of a mellow design. Leather couches, black tables, and hanging plants all over the place, the true personality came in the pops of hot pink with the pillows, ottoman, and curtains.
I peeked around them to the balcony, and Sunny.
He rose out of the bubbling water, droplets racing gleefully down his pecs. Powerful hands gripped the edge of the hot tub, curling over the edge as they would around my thighs, gently pulling them apart—
I tossed my head, slamming the door on the sudden, vivid fantasy. Months without sex was starting to get to me. This was not happening today, and if it happened at all, it wouldn’t be soon. I believe I mentioned how faulty my man-picker was. The next guy who knocked me up or confessed his love had to prove he wasn’t a shape-shifting demon first.
Sunny bent over the rim. A grimace twisted his features, crumpling them in pain.
“Sunny? Are you okay?”
He jerked, head snapping up. His expression smoothed out so fast, I thought I imagined it. “I’m fine, Angel. Are you alright?” he returned. “It’s gotta hurt being that gorgeous. It definitely hurts me—forced to look but not touch.”
I bit my lip to stop a smile. It would only encourage him. “You’re correct, you are restricted to looking. But not me. What’s bothering you? I’ll give you a massage.”
I didn’t mean it sexually. Sunny seemed to know that since he missed his window for innuendo, hesitating to give me an answer. “It’s... my neck actually. I’m not used to sleeping on my back.”
“Just your neck?”
“Yes.” He gave me his back, sliding into the water.
I stepped in behind him. The water enveloped me like satin sheets, warm and soothing against my achy legs. Sunny draped them over his shoulder and his arms on either side. He settled his head between my thighs, waiting for the massage I stupidly convinced myself wouldn’t be sexual.
His muscled shoulders flexed against my calves, shooting visions in my head of us in the same position, but him facing me, and the bikini bottoms floating in the water. Sole Bellisario was sex. One shot of him and I was a virgin pineapple mojito no more.