Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I shiver at the memory, breasts getting heavy.
With a shaky breath I pull open my top drawer, rifling through the mess of swimsuits until I find the yellow one. It’s tiny—two little triangles and a few strings—and once he sees it he’s going to want to yank it off.
With his teeth.
Ha!
The sound of laughter and splashing accompany me as I get naked. Someone screams.
I put my suit on.
Pull my hair into a high ponytail.
Add gold hoop earrings and a gold necklace, cause—why not? My skin is already glistening with a faint sheen of sweat, my cheeks flushed from the memories of Turner’s mouth on me.
Last night, Turner had his hands all over me—squeezing, stroking, pinning me down while he told me exactly how crazy I made him. How he couldn’t stop thinking about me. How he wanted to do this again and again until I couldn’t stand up straight…
And now I have to walk out there and act normal.
Dear lord.
I’m a horrible actress.
“Relax.” You’re in control. “You got this.”
I swing the patio door open and step outside, the afternoon sun instantly warming my skin. It feels amazing, a slight breeze brushing over my chest as I glance around, which is a chaotic mess of bodies.
How was Cash able to assemble this many damn people on such short notice? He only announced he wanted to have people over two hours ago and now there are guys splashing in the pool with Nugget, some tossing a football, some shooting the shit with him while he grills—and girls I have yet to meet, laying around. Flirting.
I scan the yard.
There he is.
On the other side of the pool, sitting on a lounge chair with one leg stretched out and a beer bottle dangling from his fingers, Turner’s eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. They hide everything, but I know he’s watching me.
The air is thick with citronella candles and the scent of Cash’s overcooked burgers, the sun dipping low in the sky already, casting everything in a hazy, golden glow.
And Turner? Looks like a sun-soaked god who doesn’t have a care in the world.
He freezes when he sees me, beer halfway to his mouth.
His sunglasses might hide his eyes, but his lips part and his Adam’s apple bobs, so pronounced it’s almost comical.
I bite back a grin.
Gotcha.
So. I do what I do, sauntering—no, strutting—over to the lounge chair next to his, tossing a towel down and plopping onto it with a forced, blissful sigh, stretching my arms over my head, arching my back just enough to make the fabric of my swimsuit ride up, exposing a baby bit of underboob.
I wiggle my toes. “Have you been in the pool yet?”
I know he has; he is still wet.
Before Turner can answer, Cash’s voice booms over the music. “Roomie! Hey.”
I look up to see Cash striding toward Turner and me, some random guy following behind. Oh shit. I know I’m in for it—I can feel it in my bones.
The guy is all broad shoulders, dark hair, and a blindingly white grin that screams I was the high school quarterback, they were the best days of my life, and I tell everyone about it.
Jeez.
I wish I had somewhere to hide, but I don’t, cringing inwardly when Cash slaps the guy on the back as they approach, his grin wide and excited. Like he’s about to introduce me to my future husband or perform his good deed of the decade, pride oozing off him before I even know what he’s about.
“Pops. Roomie,” he says again, and beside me, Turner’s body tenses when our roommate shoves the stranger forward like he’s presenting a prize stud at the county fair. “This is Paul. Paul, I was tellin’ you about my new roommate Poppy.”
I cannot for the life of me imagine what’s been said.
Paul smiles down at me, gaze sliding over me in a slow, deliberate sweep that makes me want to take a long, steaming hot shower.
“Hey, Poppy,” he says, dragging out my name like he’s testing how it tastes in his mouth. “How’s it going?”
“Hi—it’s going fine. No complaints.” I force a smile and sit up a little straighter on the lounge chair, wishing my tits weren’t on full display cause Paul notices.
And Paul clearly appreciates it.
Dammit!
Cash nudges his buddy. “Paul was sayin’ how hot it is out here. Maybe you could take him swimming. Cool him off a little.”
I want to gag in my mouth.
“Are you playing matchmaker, Carlson?” Turner asks him, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Naw man, just wanted to introduce two lost souls who are new to town. Playing tour guide, ha ha.” He laughs.
Paul shifts on his heels, his broad shoulders gleaming with water, his eyes glued to my chest. He’s got that frat-boy grin that’s both cocky and clueless, with zero manners and zero fucks given.