Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“Oh, I don’t do kids.”
“You just saved Gravity from sure death.”
“I imagined she was a squirrel,” I quipped. “Seriously. My la vida is a little too loca to throw kids in the mix. No way.”
“Well, I’ll need someone to help me with her while I look for work. Seeing as you’re the only non-stranger here, I only trust you.” She gave me a slow once-over. “Kinda. No offense.”
“None taken. I wouldn’t trust me. Which is why I beg you to reconsider the last item on your request list. Plus, why the hell would you need a job if I’m paying you ten K to breathe?”
“You can sign the contract with Bruce tomorrow morning, and then what?” She lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t be able to provide for my kid. No. I need to find steady work. Gravity trusts you. Babysitting duties must be included. At least twice a week.”
I drew in a sharp breath, rolling my tongue along the inner walls of my cheeks. I hoped the kid liked McDonald’s and vegging in front of the TV. “Fuck. Fine.”
“Try not to curse in front of her.” Dylan made a face.
“I have some asks too,” I informed her.
“Go ahead.” She nodded.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Gravity busted open a bag of chips and was wolfing them down between fits of giggles.
“One, you will be my fake date as many times as I need within the time constraints. You will be prim and proper, and you will look at me adoringly. You will not blow our cover and won’t tell anyone about that time a balloon got stuck in my braces in eighth grade and everybody thought it was a condom.”
She gave me a frustrated look. “Rhyland, it was a condom.”
“It was a beige-colored balloon, Dylan.”
It was a condom. I’d wanted to see how far I could blow it up before it exploded. But this could never worm its way into the four-page piece about me in Forbes, if and when I signed the deal with Bruce. Either way, Dylan had an unsavory habit of telling the story every time we were in the same room, because she knew how much I detested it.
“That includes work travels in and outside the States,” I added.
“As long as you give me enough time in advance and Grav can come, I’m okay with that.”
“And…” I stopped. Bit my tongue until warm, thick blood filled my mouth. Still, I couldn’t stop the words from falling.
From completely passive and apathetic, I’d just become animated and on fire. For the first time in eight years, Dylan and I were in the same room, completely alone, allowed to finally take out our claws and teeth and be ourselves without worrying about offending Row and Cal.
“And?” She arched an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We’d always shared this wild attraction, me and her. Since she was eighteen.
The air became thick and charged between us. I stepped toward her. She didn’t retreat, though I detected a glint of fear in her dark, upturned eyes. I leaned into her personal space, a breath away from the shell of her ear. No need for her daughter to accidentally hear the depraved man in their apartment.
“No condoms, Casablancas. We exchange clear medical sheets, you get on the pill, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
The pill wouldn’t be necessary, I knew, but I didn’t want to delve into that. Not now. Not ever. She couldn’t know. Couldn’t learn the level of fuckery that was my life.
“Whoa. Do you always do it without a condom?” She looked grossed out.
“Nope. Never.”
“Why skip it with me?”
“Because I want to. That should be reason enough.”
It was misogynistic. It was dark, twisted, and screwed up. And yet my cock was already throbbing, achingly excited at the prospect of doing filthy, wicked things to my best friend’s baby sister.
A shudder ripped through her entire body. I watched as her silky skin pebbled into a trillion goose bumps. And that was before I’d even touched her.
“If it’s too much, forget—” I started, already regretting everything I’d said.
“Deal,” she said in a rush, sounding like she’d just run a marathon. “It’s a deal.”
RHYLAND
I wish I could say I was able to concentrate on some (or any) of what Bruce Marshall blabbed about in our meeting, but the truth was I was too busy shifting in my seat to adjust my six-foot hard-on. All I could think about was Dylan and the million implications of what we’d just agreed to.
Who’d brought up sex first? She had, I was sure of it. My mind hadn’t even gone there. And not for lack of attraction to her. She was forbidden, completely off-limits, which begged the question: What were we doing?
I couldn’t screw my best friend’s little sister. There were limits in this world. Sure, I never adhered to any of them, but this one I actually cared about. Row was more than a buddy. He was my ride or die. He’d given me a job and taken me for a spin all over the world in our early twenties. This was insanity. I wasn’t going to cash in on Dylan’s offer.