Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
But this had to stop. Or at least be addressed.
I had every intention of doing so…as soon as he got home from his game in Utica. Trust me, I didn’t want to initiate this conversation, but it occurred to me that I’d become a jock’s “booty call”—I believe that’s the correct terminology—and that was not okay.
I had self-respect, darn it. I had a brain and—
“Earth to Mal.” Layla waved a hand in front of my face and set a cup of tea on the table. “You’re zoning out in the middle of our Jane Austen tea party, dearest. Stay with me.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven, love,” she replied in a terrible English accent. “Lapsang Souchong…in my most delicate floral china with English biscuits. You’re welcome.”
“It looks delicious.” I gingerly picked up the cup and took a sip. Oh…ew.
Layla chortled merrily. “Strong, huh?”
I coughed. “A little.”
“This is what they drank in the early nineteenth century. A bold brew with hints of pine.”
“It does taste a bit like tree bark.”
Layla snorted. “Eat a cookie. They aren’t so bad. And while you’re drinking my tea, you can spill yours.”
“Very clever.”
“You know it. So…what’s up?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Everything’s fine.”
She leveled me with a no-nonsense stare. “Bullshit. You’re still mooning over the hockey hottie, aren’t you?”
“No.” I huffed indignantly while counting the scalloped edges of the chalky biscuit in my hand.
“Ri-ght. I totally believe you,” she scoffed. “What’s the deal? I thought you had all the data you needed.”
Oh…that.
Well, this was my chance to confess my sins and share a confidence with a trusted friend. Layla wouldn’t judge me—well, okay, she would, but in a constructive way that I probably needed to hear. She’d help me snap out of my carnal spiral and remind me to keep perspective.
But no…
“I’ve expanded my research,” I blurted.
“Mal…”
“It’s nothing to get excited about. I’ll wrap it up soon,” I assured her in a somewhat manic tone. “In the meantime, I’m pleased with the progress…for science.”
Layla narrowed her blue tinted eyelids. “Science.”
My smile fell flat, but I wasn’t sure how to defend my bad choices. So I slurped tea instead, clandestinely checking for an incoming text and hoping I didn’t get struck by lightning for joining the ranks of larcenous liars with sex addictions.
Lord help me.
CHAPTER 13
JETT
“I think we’re having a torrid affair.”
I blinked at the adorkable man panting under me and grinned. “We are?”
“Yes.” Malcolm covered his eyes. “I have the moral compass of a mollusk around you, and this has to stop.”
I rolled off him and reached for the towel I’d left next to the bed, hoping we’d end up here. “I didn’t know mollusks had moral compasses.”
Malcolm wiped at the cum on his belly, wrinkling his nose in that funny way he did when asked to explain something outside of his wheelhouse.
“That sounded better in my head. Truthfully, I don’t know the first thing about the sexual appetite of a mollusk,” he admitted. “Irrelevant. We need to discuss—”
“Ugh.” I straightened my knee and sat up, leaning my pillow against the headboard.
“Is your knee still injured?”
“Same as usual. I just played a lot of minutes tonight.” I cleaned up my mess and grabbed the water bottle on the nightstand. “Want anything to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Malcolm slipped out of bed, pulling his briefs over his slim hips. “I’d hoped to be fully clothed while broaching this topic, but that’s proved to be challenging…as you can see. And we should talk.”
He was right. As much as I wanted to, we couldn’t pretend ending up in bed was a natural progression to our hockey lessons. The thing was…I hated talking about feelings or anything that loosely skirted relationship territory. Not that this was a relationship. This was sex.
Only sex.
Amazing sex.
Christ, look at him. Malcolm drove me fucking wild. Before we’d gotten to the naked part of the party, I’d been obsessed with the guy. Now…I was addicted. That perfect compact physique, his sweet ass, thick cock, and his gorgeous-as-fuck mouth.
Seriously. I’d been out of town for less than twenty-four hours for a game, which we’d won 3 to 1, thank fuck—and Maloney had been on my mind the whole damn time. I’d wondered what he was doing, how his classes were going. And yeah, I’d thought about tasting him, sucking him, fucking him. I wanted it all and was pretty sure he felt the same. But either way, we probably needed to use words and set boundaries and that kind of shit.
“Okay…”
“I don’t think we can continue doing…what we’ve done.” Wait. What? “It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed it…because I have. But I don’t deal with ambiguity well and if we’re honest, it’s in poor taste to conduct a liaison with someone I’ve specifically requested to provide insight into—”
“Hold up, Maloney. You’re using a lot of big words, and I’m not operating on all cylinders yet.” I stood slowly, mindful of my achy knee. “But I don’t see the problem. We’re consenting adults. We can do what we want.”