Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
At the elevator, I risk a glance at Miles, and find him watching me. Caught, he looks away, but his eyes quickly return. His gaze drops to my mouth, where I can still feel the press of his lips.
When people—mostly Ana—talked about me hooking up with one of the twins, I envisioned Max, not that I thought it would happen at all.
Max is funny and charming, bright as the sun. But now I realize Miles is every bit as appealing, in a subtle but possibly more potent way.
Neither of us says a word until we’re back in the room, where Max is waiting, his dress shirt open at the neck, his hair slightly rumpled as if he’s been lying down.
“How did the rest of the party go?”
My eyes dart to Miles before looking away. “I’ll let Miles tell you about it. I’m exhausted and want to get ready for bed.”
I find my pajamas—the set I packed, not the ones that Marissa added—and head into the bathroom, relieved to close the door behind me.
I can’t look at the men right now, not until I get my head straight.
I knew there was a good chance our dating ruse would require kissing. I didn’t anticipate enjoying it as much as I did.
I wonder what Miles is telling Max about it, because surely, he’d have to tell him as part of keeping their stories straight.
While I shower, I continually refocus my thoughts on anything except the gorgeous twins I’m about to sleep in the same room with, but my efforts aren’t very successful.
When I go back out, Miles isn’t there. “He went out to get ice,” Max explains.
I set out clothing for the yoga session I’ll be leading tomorrow morning, and then I look around the room for some sort of distraction. I don’t want to go to bed until Miles returns, and I don’t particularly want to make conversation with Max right now, because talking to him would require looking at him.
“I didn’t notice this door earlier.” I defeat my own goal of avoiding conversation, but the door takes me by surprise. “Connecting rooms make me nervous.”
Max seems unbothered. “Are you worried about noise or security?”
“Security.” Though, as I say it, I realize I’ll have not one, but two strong men in the room with me all night.
Max comes over and turns the deadbolt to the right, and then left again. “No one can get in, and if they could, I’d protect you.”
Miles returns then, the bucket of ice in hand, and I can’t quite meet his eyes. Instead, I focus on the duvet-covered elephant in the room.
“I feel guilty taking the bed,” I say. “I think the two of you should share it.”
In one of their coordinated twin movements, the men shake their heads in unison.
“You should sleep in the bed,” Miles says.
“The bed is all yours,” Max says. “Unless you want to share it with me?” He waggles an eyebrow, making it clear that he’s teasing. Before I can reject his suggestion, he says, “It’s probably best we don’t though, since you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me.”
And that’s all it takes for me to get an instant image of the two of us under that fluffy duvet, legs tangled, hands and mouths exploring…
Max turns toward his brother. “Miles, did I ever tell you about my first night out with Callie? She kept asking for dick pics.”
“I did not!”
“She was practically begging, even though I told her that wasn’t my style.”
“Oh my god!” I’m laughing, but now I’m also thinking about his dick. And his brother’s dick. And I have to sleep here in this room with them and try not to imagine them both naked.
“If you’re not going to take the bed, at least take the comforter. I’ll be warm enough with just the blanket.” I fold the cover down and hand it over to Max. “There are plenty of pillows to share, too.”
The men get their makeshift bed set up, most of the lights are off, and I’m ready to fall asleep—until Miles goes in to take a shower.
Sounds of the water spray immediately create mental images of that water hitting his hard, smooth muscles, sliding down over rippled abs, dripping down to powerful thighs, pooling at his bare feet.
I imagine him holding a bar of soap in his big hand, sudsing up his broad chest, bubbles sliding on rivulets of water, lower, lower…
I turn over, bunching up the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds, but my illicit thoughts persist.
Miles comes out, Max goes in, and I make the mistake of peeking through barely open eyes. Yep, Miles is shirtless, and I get a glimpse of several of those same muscles I just fantasized about. And wow, they’re even more impressive than I imagined.
He has so many hard-cut ab muscles, and such smooth, broad pecs. Something about the width of his strong shoulders has me imagining how easily he could pick me up and do whatever he’d like with me.