Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
"I'm cock-blocking you?"
"Yeah, but I like to make her wait," I say.
"I heard that," she calls from downstairs. She drops her key on the kitchen table and slides out of her shoes.
I know it's kind of crazy to give her a key this early—shit, wild, not crazy—but with our schedules so different, it works.
I like knowing she's here when I'm at work.
I like coming home to the smell of chai.
I like knowing she can use my bed for any untoward purpose she wants—
And she does.
She sends me the photographic evidence too.
She tortures me as well as I torture her.
"Imogen is smart, right?" Dare asks from the video-call. "I mean, not smart enough to find a better guy—"
She moves up the stairs.
He fails to hold on to his lightness. "I'll ask her."
Really? "You want to tell her you…"
"Yeah," he says.
She spots the call and whispers sorry, I'll wait.
I motion come here. "No, Dare wants to talk to you."
"Really? How sweet." She moves to the desk and leans forward, so her cleavage spills from her shirt.
He tries to look away.
I don't.
"Hey, Dare." She catches the, uh, oversight, but she doesn't correct it. She winks at me and slides into my lap. "How's Spain?"
"Hot," he says.
"Does Barcelona really look like San Diego?" she asks.
He makes an ugh sound. Like Valeria, he's already sick of the topic. "Some parts, yeah. The harbor. How's Tricky?"
"You didn't ask him?" she asks.
"In bed," he says. "He playing his A-game?"
She laughs. "Yeah. We have plans after this, actually."
"He mentioned that," Dare says.
I pull her closer.
Again, she laughs, but this time she tries to shift her focus to Dare. "Is this a friendly hello or…?"
"You're a girl," he says.
"A woman, yes, but I don't speak for all of us," she says.
"Still. You study psychology. And you're smart," he says.
"I try," she says.
He looks away from the camera as his cheeks flush. "I have a situation."
"What kind?" she asks.
"Val, she… she walked in on me."
"With another woman?"
"With myself."
"Oh." Imogen blushes too. "When was that?"
"Last night. She apologized and ran to her bedroom. She got up before I did, snuck out of the place. We haven't talked since."
"She was embarrassed?" Imogen asks.
"I think so, but I was a little… distracted." His blush deepens. "I didn't catch everything."
"You're travel partners. It happens."
"But she…" He clears his throat. "I think she heard me."
"Your sounds?" She keeps a straight face.
"Her name," he says. "I said it."
"You were thinking about her?" she asks.
"To rid myself of the impulse. 'Cause we're friends and I'd never put that in jeopardy," he says. "Never."
"You like her?" she asks.
"It doesn't matter," he says. "It can't happen."
"Tell her that," she says.
"Won't that sound like bullshit? 'I know you caught me stroking the sausage thinking of you but pretend it never happened.'"
"Oh my god." She collects herself.
A door opens. On his end this time.
"Fuck," he says.
"Just be honest with her," she says. "Even if it's hard. Especially if it's hard. You're good friends. You can make it through anything if you're honest."
"Yeah. Maybe. Have fun with Tricky." He closes the laptop and the call ends.
She lets out a soft sigh. "You think he'll be okay?"
"Not if he keeps lying to himself," I say.
"I guess you'd know."
"Hey." I wrap my hand around her thigh. "You're sweet to talk to him."
"I'm not sure I helped," she says.
"Probably helped more than I did," I say.
"I guess the results will show the overall level of our help."
"What do you think will happen?"
"I don't know them that well."
"Even so," I say.
"Europe in the summer? It's romantic. If there's any inkling…"
"Nonstop sex?"
"Basically." She groans as I slip my hand up her thigh. "Tricky."
"Yeah, baby?" I press my lips to her neck.
"This isn't the position."
"It could be." I motion to the camera. "We're set up for a video call."
"But there isn't a view of the action," she says.
"Bad girl," I say.
She arches into me. "You'd rather capture this angle?"
"Yeah."
"Our faces?"
I nod into her neck.
Her eyes flutter closed. "Okay."
"You sure?"
"Yes." She arches into me again. "Are we recording?"
"Not yet." I keep my hand on her thigh. "Are you ready?"
"Less talking. More this—" She wraps her fingers around my wrist and slides my hand up her thigh.
I nod into her neck and turn the camera on.
She stares at her reflection as I press the record button.
Her cheeks flush.
Mine do too.
This is only for us, sure, but it's a lot more than we've ever shared.
The two of us, together, our faces clearly visible.
It's more intimate this way.
More revealing.
Infinitely more terrifying.
Yes, I want to take the full body video too. Hell, I want the close-up of me driving into her again and again.
But I want this more.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
We're still new, but I already know.
I need her.
A part of me will always need a part of her.