Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 776(@200wpm)___ 621(@250wpm)___ 517(@300wpm)
Mya chokes midsip of wine. “Wait a minute. Your new man’s name is Percival?” Her head swings toward me. “Did you know this?”
“Unfortunately.”
Diana picks seven tiles at random before passing the little bag to Mya. “It really is unfortunate,” she says glumly. “But I’m into him, so I’m pretending in my head that he has a hot name.”
“Like Thunder,” Mya says. “Or Blaze.”
“I said a hot name, not a gladiator.”
I snicker as I arrange my tiles on my letter tray. The first word that pops out at me is COCK.
Wait. I also have a Y.
COCKY.
There. Proof I don’t have dicks on the brain.
Mya gets the game going by throwing down the word BEET.
“How was the sex?” she asks Diana. “I can’t even imagine what a Percival would be like in bed.”
“A bit intense,” confesses Diana. “He held my face a lot.”
“Held your face?” I echo, grinning.
“Yeah. Not aggressively or anything. He kept cupping my cheeks and looking deep in my eyes. So I kept flipping myself over and going doggy style to give all the eye contact a break, but he’d only flip me onto my back again to stare lovingly at me.”
I try not to laugh. “I guess that’s…romantic?”
“Sure, if it’s anniversary sex. But not when you’re having sex for the first time. That’s supposed to be fun and wild and passionate. Not super emotional.”
“I actually agree with you.” Mya appears shocked by her own admission. “How is that possible? I never agree with you.”
Diana laughs and tosses her platinum hair over her shoulder. “Something’s definitely wrong with the universe,” she agrees.
I know it’s all good-natured. They do like each other. I think. If they don’t, they’re doing an excellent job protecting me from their mutual hatred.
The universe must be off-kilter, because as I examine the board trying to figure out where I can squeeze in the word COCKY, my phone buzzes with an incoming call.
From Ryder.
My heart stutters. Why is he calling me?
“One sec,” I tell my friends, reaching for the phone. I swipe to answer, my tone wary. “Hello?”
I don’t get a hello back, or even a normal sentence.
His rough voice fills my ear with two inexplicable words.
“Use me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
GIGI
I want it from you
HOLDING THE PHONE TO MY EAR, I WRINKLE MY FOREHEAD TO try to make sense of what Ryder is saying to me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Use me for sex,” he clarifies.
I cough loudly. A result of choking on air because I made the mistake of taking a breath right as he said that.
Use me for sex.
That’s a joke.
He’s joking, right?
I strangle out another cough, drawing Diana’s attention. “Are you okay? Who is it?”
“Yeah, fine,” I tell her, covering the mouthpiece. “Breathing is confusing sometimes.”
“Why are you so weird?” she sighs, and Mya snickers.
“I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
Before they can question me further, I shoot to my feet and escape to my bedroom. Once the door is firmly closed, I refocus my attention on my phone.
“Did you seriously just ask me to use you for sex?” I blurt out. My heart thuds against my ribs, palms growing damp.
“Earlier you said you wanted to use Beckett for sex. I’m offering an alternative.”
As always, his deep voice carries a mocking note.
And yet I know he’s being serious right now. I highly doubt Ryder calls girls out of the blue and extends bogus dirty offers.
This is legit.
“That’s…not how this works,” I finally manage to croak out. “Just because I wanted to get laid last weekend doesn’t mean I’ll fuck just anyone. Beckett and I shared an organic moment. I didn’t go to the party planning to have sex with him.”
“So you don’t have an itch that needs scratching anymore?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then you do still require naked stress-busting.” On a raspy chuckle, he throws my own asinine descriptor back at me.
“All I’m saying is, just because I need…”
“To get fucked,” he supplies.
My cheeks nearly burst into flames. I sit on the edge of my bed while my heart continues to hammer out a wild, frantic rhythm.
“…just because I need what I need,” I finish, “doesn’t mean I’m desperate.” I bristle to myself. “I’m not interested in pity sex.”
Husky laughter tickles my ear. “Gisele. Come on now.”
“What?” I gulp. My throat feels tight now.
“You think I’m throwing you a pity fuck?”
“You’re not?”
“No.” There’s a pause. “I need what I need too.” Another pause. “And I want it from you.”
My pussy clenches.
Hard.
His candor sends a dose of raw lust coursing through my blood. My knees are wobbling and I’m sitting down, for Pete’s sake.
I swallow again. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want to sleep together.”
“Sleep, no. But I think we should fuck.”
Every inch of my body feels hot and tight. It’s been a while since I felt desire this potent. I don’t think it’s ever been this strong. Not with Case. Certainly not with Beckett last weekend.