Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Right. He and I had recently set a budget for our finances. I didn’t know, because he didn’t let me know, but suspected cash was tight. He worried endlessly about the cost of a good private school for the kids. Based on what we were seeing, he and I weren’t Reservations nightclub wealthy. “You think?”
His face came within inches of mine, hands on each shoulder to stay steady. “I think you’re the hottest guy here.”
I burst out a laugh right in his face then tried my hand at the compliment. “You’re the hottest guy here.”
Something raced over his expression. His body went still. “That means you think I’m old, don’t you?”
What? Wait. Did that mean he thought I was old? Fuck, I halted movement too. Dammit. Old was a gay man’s nightmare. My eyes narrowed, taking a closer look at my husband who might be divorced on our nineteenth anniversary. Was this one of his workarounds? A devious trap that I regularly fell for? He was master level good at those.
“Why aren’t you answering?” he slurred and tipsy swayed until I righted his position.
“How do I answer? Of course you’re not old. You’re still the hot guy that made me tumble over my handlebars.” I gave a single nod, proud of my off-the-cuff response. “Do you think I’m old?”
“Yeah,” he said as if the answer was obvious. “Of course you are. You have to know that.”
Divorce proceedings began to take shape. My chest bumped him several steps away into other dancers. I glared my meanest look, which he found hilarious.
“I’m younger than you, lawyer-man.” I let out a shout loud enough to draw stares, which only made Dash cackle like a damned hyena.
“By eleven months,” Dash said, sashaying closer with a wink and a twist. “If we weren’t older…” The beat dropped to a thumping anthem making Dash have to climb my body to say what he wanted me to hear. I didn’t give a single inch of height to help him reach my ear. “We wouldn’t be celebrating our nineteenth anniversary if we weren’t old!”
Then, in a daring move, his tongue darted straight into my ear, swirling there until reaching the outer edge. His tongue lapped around the shell. He reared maybe an inch away, puffing a teasing breath over the skin he’d just made wet.
“I want another hundred more years.” He caressed my cheek with his palm, tilting me so he better captured my lips, kissing me roughly. Instantly, tongue and teeth battled for domination.
As suddenly as he stole the kiss, he edged back, our gazes colliding. Those mesmerizing blue depths held me captive, waiting for whatever he wanted to reveal. “You ready to go to our room?”
Always. But that thought stayed locked in my head. Instead, I nodded and kept him firmly in my hold. I gathered our clothes, tossing them one right after another toward Dash. He scrambled to keep each article from hitting the floor. I extended my hand above my head in hopes of gaining our waiter’s attention. Dash had other plans, clasping my arm and darting stealthily through the maze of dancers, ending at the bar.
He paid, of course. I never did, although we shared accounts. Our walkout was just like any other… Dash strutted ahead of me, pulling me along like his loyal sidekick. But this time, Dash didn’t hold all my attention. The scenery was seriously handsome men. I’d never been around this many gay men in my life. I might not ever think about life in the same way again.
Once we made it to the hotel’s hallway, the soft, bright lighting was blinding. “What did it cost?” I asked. The handhold we shared swapped hands when Dash turned to face me, walking backward now.
“Guess?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” I said, exaggerating my answer.
Dash slowed his roll and cocked a brow. “Four hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
I rooted in my spot. Dinner was charged to the room. That alone was a few hundred dollars. “Six hundred dollars for the drinks we had at the club?”
“Yeah,” Dash grunted, finding something funny. He tugged at my hand to get me moving again. I reluctantly did.
Damn, that dumb club looked a lot less appealing now. Membership was out of the question if a single night of drinks cost that much.
“So this weekend’s costin’ us a couple of thousand dollars?”
Dash let out a hearty laugh. I didn’t find the joke.
“I’ve got my work cut out for me next year. Topping this anniversary won’t be easy,” he said, and I couldn’t help the unguarded tsk at the very idea. First, we weren’t having additional anniversary celebrations because I just spent all the money from now until forever. Second, everything Dash did was over-the-top. Him trying to beat this one meant we’d have reservations on the first flights to the moon and back. As a family, we took family vacations all over the country. This year, the girls’ birthday party was on a seven-day Disney cruise with our entire family. That was scheduled a mere four days after we returned from this anniversary weekend. Dash promised me the cruise was my mom’s idea, and she was paying, but I didn’t believe that lie. He’d never let someone else pay for us, he envisioned it as his job.