Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“Josslyn Santos.”
My heart skips. “So you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“Is that a yes?”
“About going home with you?” I take a small step back, heart pounding in my ears. “No.”
“I should clarify that we wouldn’t even have to leave the building.”
“Really?” I let out a breathless laugh. “You have a private room ready for you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He watches me for a moment, then adds, “A very private room downstairs.”
“How pragmatic of you.” I bite my lip and tear my gaze away from his in hopes of calming the hell down. “The answer is still no.”
“Because you don’t fuck strangers?” He squints ever so slightly. “We can get to know each other if you want.”
“Really?” I ask, even though I should cut this conversation. “When exactly?”
“Preferably when my fingers are buried in your pussy.”
Oh my … my body clenches in a way I’ve never experienced before. Who says stuff like that? And why is it hot? Probably because he’s so damn hot. Coming out of any other man’s lips, that line would be revolting. God, why am I even stalling and acting like I'm considering this? I need to seriously stop this conversation. Walk away, Josslyn. Walk the hell away.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” I lick my lips and swallow. “I’m kind of dating someone.”
“Kind of dating someone?”
“It just started getting serious.”
Like yesterday, but I don’t say that part because it sounds ridiculous. Since it's a recent development and Tate never acted jealous while we were keeping things casual, I’m sure he would forgive my indiscretion, but it doesn’t feel right. From the way Finn is looking at me, I can tell he doesn’t really care if I have a boyfriend, and I can’t help but compare him to Tate, which is ludicrous since they’re so different. Tate is the kind of guy you take home for your mom to meet—charming, well-mannered, blond with blue eyes. Finn is the opposite—broody with chestnut hair, and an I’ll fuck my neighbor’s mom in my Gucci flip-flops if I want to attitude.
“How long ago is ‘just started?’” he asks finally.
I hesitate and look away. “Yesterday.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” I meet his eyes again.
“Two days? Technically, you wouldn’t even be cheating.”
I shake my head, laughing lightly. “I would hate to be your girlfriend.”
“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend. It’s a one-time fuck. I don’t do more than that, which I’m sure you’ve heard since you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re so freaking arrogant.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.” I cross my arms. “Why me, anyway? Why not Gracie? She looked like she was trying pretty hard to get your attention.”
“And as you saw, when you were pretending not to notice me, she didn’t have it.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re wasting your time with me.” I put a hand up to add, “I’m not fishing for compliments. I genuinely don’t get it.”
“Why you?” he muses as he looks at me. I hold my breath. Finally, he shrugs. “I have no fucking idea.”
That makes me laugh. I know I said I didn’t want a compliment, but what the hell? I open my mouth to respond just that, when someone bumps into me from behind, making me crash into Finn. We both inhale sharply as my hands land flat on his chest, and he puts his hands on my elbows to steady me.
I push away, inhaling his delicious cologne as I fully straighten and look into his smoldering eyes, committing the brief moment to memory. One day, I’ll think back on this as “that time Finn Barlow propositioned me and then caught me when I was falling.” As jarring and memorable as the experience might be, it solidifies one thing…
“I definitely can’t have sex with you,” I say shakily once I take a step away and find my voice.
“I definitely shouldn’t want to have sex with you.”
“Joss, we need to go.” The voice comes from my stepbrother, who breaks the weird spell I seem to be under.
I turn my face and watch as he does a double-take when he sees Finn standing there. When he reaches us, he wipes his left hand on his black slacks in front of Finn.
“Sorry to interrupt. Damian Fletcher.”
Finn looks at his hand for a moment before shaking it. “Finn Barlow.”
Damian chuckles. “Yeah, I know. We met at The Stable. Well, more like you obliterated the team I was rooting for.”
“Fletcher,” Finn says, almost to himself, as he appraises him again. “You’re the one who was being recruited for football and hockey. You were the youngest one on that team, right?”
“On every team,” Dame says, and I stifle an eye roll as he does little to hide the smug expression on his face.
Finn is a much more skilled hockey player, but my stepbrother has reason to be cocky about his athletic prowess. Finn doesn’t seem very impressed by him, and just nods before he turns to me again. With the weight of his full attention, my heart skips so many beats, making it hard to breathe. He’s searching my face like he’s looking for something to say, but I beat him to it.