Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
What now? Do I read like I do at home? I don’t need the light on since I brought my Kindle, but will it bug them if I’m lying in the middle of the big bed reading the latest book club pick? I do want to know what happens next in The UnGentleman.
Dev emerges from the bathroom, but he hasn’t changed into sleep clothes yet. Maybe he just brushed his teeth. He trades with Ledger, then grabs some clothes and toiletries from his suitcase, along with a Kindle.
He sets it on the nightstand on top of the postcards he picked up at the store. “Gotta read before bed. Hope you don’t mind.”
I don’t even try to hide my smile. “I insist on it,” I say, then I hop out of bed and grab my Kindle from my purse.
I’m back under the covers as Ledger returns from the bathroom, wearing basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt. With a nod, Dev heads back into the bathroom, and the sound of the shower turning on reaches me.
As Ledger comes over to the big bed, there’s a mischievous look in his eyes. Before he can say something, a lightbulb goes off in my head. “You want that side?” I ask, pointing to Dev’s nightstand.
Ledger’s eyes sparkle. “Yeah, and since Dev’s in the shower, I don’t even have to call shotgun.”
“Go for it,” I say, his partner in crime.
Ledger goes to the other side and gets into bed before he moves Dev’s things. Then, he grabs the Kindle and stretches all the way across me to set it on the other nightstand. His chest is inches from my face. His body is over mine, and I’m staring at the breadth of his muscles, the size of his biceps, the cords in his neck, all while water patters rhythmically from the room nearby.
This is such an unusual bird’s eye view of the man.
I don’t mind it one bit. I hold my breath so I don’t…gasp.
When Ledger moves back, I watch him again, retreating over me. And for a second, he stops, pressing a hand into the mattress on one side of me.
“You have…” His eyes travel over my face, then he tips his chin at me. “An eyelash.”
“I have many,” I say, but I know what he means. I lift my hand, gently brushing at my cheek.
He gives me a faint smile before he pushes up on an elbow and ever so tenderly brushes it off my cheek, then blows on it.
My heart squeezes. “Did you make a wish?”
“I did,” he says, then gives me another soft smile that turns into another yawn.
I wonder what he wished for, but suspect he’s reached the end of sharing tonight, so I don’t push. Instead, I try to give him what he needs—not pushing, not asking.
“Good night, Ledger,” I say, tugging up the covers and playfully tucking him in as the shower forms our soundtrack.
He grumbles. “I’ll just kick them off.”
“I have no doubt,” I say.
He sighs, a contented, sleepy sound as he settles into the pillow, then looks back at me once more. “Good night, Aubrey.”
It’s a soft wish against the quiet night.
But it’s his gaze, even in the dim light of the room, that tugs on something inside me. That same impulsive part of me that was compelled to kiss him on the cheek last night in the parking lot.
Maybe it’ll ease the tension of sharing a bed.
Or maybe I’m just an impulsive girl. I lean over and give in to the urge. But he must have shifted as I moved, because my lips don’t touch his scratchy cheek. They dust against his lips instead.
His lush, hungry, masculine lips.
“Oh!”
The surprised sound comes from me. He doesn’t move. I don’t either. Instead, I linger for one, two, three delicious seconds on his mouth. In that shadow of a kiss, I feel a pull toward him. The sense that he needs something. That I could be the one to give it. It’s there, unspoken between us.
Finally I break the silence. “I didn’t mean to.” It comes out staccato, and it’s probably a lie.
His expression is stony till his lips quirk up. “I wouldn’t stop you,” he says, and on that tempting note, he turns around, shuts off his light, and, like it’s his superpower, he’s asleep in ten seconds.
I’m not tired at all. Replaying what just happened, I open a book and try to read the next chapter of The UnGentleman. The hero is either a bodyguard or a billionaire or a billionaire bodyguard, and the heroine could be his childhood sweetheart or his red-hot enemy.
I can’t focus on the words. I’m too busy running my finger along my bottom lip, reliving that teasing touch.
An accidental one but sexy nonetheless. Only…Was it accidental?
I close my eyes, but I don’t stop the trail of my fingertips until I hear a door swing open. My eyes fly open, too, and I drop my hand. My Kindle tumbles from my other hand and smacks the covers.