Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
When sunlight hit my face, however, I woke up and dragged my tired ass into Max’s bathroom. When I came back out and saw Max’s naked, godlike form in the bed, I couldn’t resist. Despite being sore and exhausted, I slithered back into bed and woke Max up with a blowjob and then mounted his hard cock.
When it comes to sex, Max just gets me. He knows when to tease. When to deny. When to keep it steady, slow down, or step on the gas. He’s a mind reader, basically. A magic man. I can’t wait to see him again later this week for our dinner date. And then, after dinner, to come back here and experience the sequel to what we did last night.
When I orgasm, Max lets out a roar and releases inside me. When my body quiets down, I flop down next to him on the bed and snuggle into him, grinning and giggling like a fool.
Max strokes my back. “Do you have time for breakfast? I don’t have any food in the fridge—I’ve been working like a maniac lately—but there’s a great place down the street.”
My heart leaps. Max asked me out to dinner last night, and today he’s inviting me to breakfast? I’m not sure how to reconcile his invitations with the “one-night stand” conversation we had last night at Captain’s, but I’m far too excited to spend more time with this hunk of a hottie to even try to figure out those inconsistencies now.
While flirting with Max at Captain’s last night, I had the foresight to text my father and ask if it’d be okay for me to spend the night at Lucy’s house. Dad replied that’d be fine and that I should take my time coming home today. But now, I’m not entirely sure if “taking my time” means I’ve got time for a leisurely brunch with Max.
“You need to eat, right?” Max says. Clearly, he’s misinterpreting my silence as proof I’m vacillating on whether I want to spend more time with him; whereas, in reality, I want nothing more than to flit off to breakfast with him. The thing is, though, I don’t know how or when I should tell this playboy I’m actually at the mercy of my father’s schedule today, thanks to the cute little redhead at home who owns my heart.
“Breakfast sounds good,” I say, figuring I’ll backtrack on that if I text Dad and he asks me to come home now. “What’s the name of the place down the street? I’ll google it and check reviews.”
Max smiles. “You don’t trust my recommendation?”
“Food is my passion. I fully admit I’m a restaurant snob. I’ll check out the menu and reviews, and if it isn’t up to my standards, I’ll find us another place.”
Max chuckles. “Would you like to pick the restaurant for our dinner later this week?”
“No, I have faith in your selection for that. Breakfast is tricky.”
Max tells me the name of the breakfast place and then leans in for a kiss—and when our kiss is done, he nuzzles his nose into mine and whispers, “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not looking for anything serious. I’m not trying to give you mixed messages here.”
“You’re not. Sometimes, a meal is just a meal.”
Max sighs with relief. “Exactly.”
“As long as we’re both clear on what we want,” I say, “and what we don’t, then it’s all good.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” His smile brightens, and yet again, my heart flutters. He strokes my thigh. “You wanna hop in the shower with me?”
“No, you go ahead. I’ll join you after I’ve googled the restaurant.”
Max chuckles. “Have fun.”
“Do you have a coffee maker? I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
“In the kitchen. No killing required.”
“I’ll make a pot.”
“Awesome.”
Max slides out of bed, grabs his phone, and ambles naked toward his bathroom. As he walks, I admire his gorgeous backside. Once Max has disappeared into the bathroom, I grab my phone and swipe into my texts. Not surprisingly, my friends have been blowing up our group chat all morning with questions for Selena and me about Grayson and Max, respectively. Selena hasn’t made an appearance in the chat yet, which is probably a great sign for Grayson. Selena is an early riser, and also prompt with her text replies, so if she hasn’t gotten around to answering the group’s demands for an update by now, it’s probably because she’s otherwise engaged.
Grinning, I tap out a reply to my friends, letting them know I just enjoyed the spiciest, hottest, most mind-blowingly fantastic night of my life, and instantly, I’m barraged with a cavalcade of GIFs and texts. There’s a splayed kitty cat fanning her nether regions in front of an oscillating fan. A woman eating a banana suggestively. A nuclear explosion. And so on. When I tell the group the further news that I’m going to breakfast with Max this morning and then to dinner with him later this week, the group chat explodes with another round of GIFs and comments.