Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I grab my things and head into the shower, trying to be as quick as I can because I know he’s waiting.
He’s waiting… for me.
Ten minutes later, I come back out into the room in denim shorts and a pale pink T-shirt to find my bed made and my panties laid out. I stare at them, mortified. They’re the ones I stuffed under my pillow when he arrived.
I turn to him. “You made my bed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes hold mine, dark and dangerous. “I wanted to.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I found these under your pillow.” He picks them up and twirls them around on his finger. “Did you take them off last night when you were alone in bed?”
I open my mouth to say something but no words come out.
He steps forward, closer to me. “Did you touch yourself last night when you got back from our date?”
I frown. I have two options here. One, go along with his notion that I’m a sexy ho…or two, shatter his dreams and tell him I’m a slob who left my panties on the floor. “Did you?” I fire back, unable to push a lie past my lips.
He steps forward again. “I did.”
The air crackles between us.
“And?” I whisper.
“I blew three times.” His dark eyes hold mine. “Seems that you’re quite the aphrodisiac, Miss Olivia Reynolds.”
The air leaves my lungs as I imagine him alone in the dark, pleasuring himself.
Dear God.
He runs his fingertips down my cheek, and I stare up at him. His gaze drops to my lips, and my sex clenches.
Kiss me.
Enrico cups my face and grabs a handful of my hair.
Kiss me.
He places his thumb under my bottom lip and opens my mouth slightly as if imagining something. A frown mars his face as he stares at my open mouth.
Kiss me, goddamn it.
He seems to suddenly refocus and then blinks once. “We should get going. Breakfast is waiting.” He steps back from me.
Wait, what? Where’s my kiss?
“Okay, sure.” I grab my purse and supplies, and I turn to him in a fluster. “I’m ready, are you?”
He smirks, knowing full well that I was waiting for him to kiss me. “Oh, I’m ready. Let’s go Olivia.”
“Table for two, please,” Enrico asks the waiter.
“This way, please,” the Italian waiter replies.
We follow him through the restaurant and out of a door that opens up to a courtyard. The ground is made of cobblestones, and colorful flowers light up the area in large pots. Its quaint and cute.
The waiter pulls out my chair. “Thank you.” Rico sits down opposite me.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the waiter asks.
Rico looks over at me. “Would you like an espresso, Olivia?”
I scan the menu quickly. I don’t think my poor hungover stomach can handle a strong coffee this morning. “I’ll have an English breakfast tea, please.”
The waiter smiles and scribbles down my order.
“I’ll have an espresso with an extra shot of coffee,” Rico says.
“Thank you.”
The waiter leaves us alone, and nerves bubble in my stomach again.
Rico pours us both a glass of water. “You look beautiful today.”
I smile. “Liar.” I rearrange the napkin on my lap. “I’m feeling very secondhand.”
He frowns, not understanding what I mean.
“I feel hungover from last night. I feel a little sick,” I clarify.
“Oh.” He smiles. “I see.” He opens the menu and peruses the choices, and I do the same. “What are you having?”
In order to feel better, I need full fat and double of everything. But then in order to get Rico to kiss me, I need to appear less pig-like.
“Maybe fruit?” I lie, testing the water. I’m so not getting fruit but I’ll ease into the conversation with that.
He frowns as he reads. “You should eat something hearty. It will make you feel better.”
“Okay.” Well, that plan worked fabulously. “If you insist.” I look over the choices. “What are you having?”
“Granola and fruit.”
“You know, I make a wonderful granola,” I say proudly. “I roast it myself.” I don’t make much, but I do make that.
“Do you?” He raises his brow. “Well, I hope that one day you will make it for me.”
I shrug casually, as if super-hot guys ask for my granola every day. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He chuckles, and his eyes linger on my face. Nerves dance in my stomach under his gaze. I’ve never spent time with a man who’s this good looking before. Enrico simply oozes sex appeal, and it’s not missionary style sex appeal, either. I’m talking bone-shattering, wet with perspiration, fuck you into oblivion kind of sex. The stuff you see on cable and think about for weeks.
“Can I take your order?” the waiter asks.
Rico gestures to me. Such a gentleman. “I will have the avocado and eggs, please.” I frown because I want something sweet, too.
The waiter looks to Rico. “And you, sir?”