Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“You didn’t fall asleep naked,” he counters, laughing. “I think you passed out.”
“It’s the same thing.” I chuckle as he moves out of the bed and looks down at me.
“That’s what you get when you answer the door naked.” He winks at me, and I look at his retreating ass as he goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
“I wasn’t naked!” I shout back at him. “I had a robe on!” I roll my lips when I look over at the see-through robe that he ripped off as soon as we got into the bedroom. His clothes are also scattered all over my room.
“Is that what you’re calling it?” he questions, walking out of the bathroom, his cock at half-mast as he searches through the clothes for his boxers. “You want me to make you coffee?” he asks me, coming to my side of the bed and kissing my neck.
“Yeah.” I stretch. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” I tell him, getting up and walking to the bathroom.
I walk out wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top, my hair piled on my head. He takes one look at me and picks me up, placing my ass on my island. “You do that often,” I tell him, laughing as he hands me my coffee.
“That’s because I like to stand between your legs.” He kisses my neck. “I like doing a lot of things between your legs.” He turns his head to the side and starts to kiss me when we both hear a car door shut. He looks at me and he’s about to say something when the doorbell rings, and then the knocking starts.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Jaxon crows and my eyes go big as he moves away from me, gripping my hips and putting me on my feet.
“Go and hide in my room,” I hiss-whisper at him. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“You’re naked.” He points to me, looking at me and then the door.
“Wakey, wakey,” Jaxon calls out.
“I’m not naked,” I deny, pushing him out of the kitchen and toward my bedroom.
“Your nipples are on display.”
“They’re just nipples,” I hiss at him but grab my terry cloth robe. “There, now hide.” I urge him as I walk to the door. My heart is hammering as I look up and try to act calm when I open the door. “This is almost criminal,” I say, trying to pretend I’m rubbing sleep away from my eyes.
“It’s the ass crack of dawn,” I point out as he comes in holding a bag in his hand.
“It’s almost ten and I’ve actually been up since the ass crack of dawn.” He walks into the kitchen.
“And you’ve already been up since your coffee is made,” he remarks, pointing to the cup that Zane was handing to me before he knocked. I look over at the coffee maker seeing Zane’s cup there.
“What are you doing here?” I walk into the kitchen, picking up the cup of coffee before turning and giving him my back. I try to make a plan to move the cup without him knowing, but it will draw even more attention to it.
“I’m here because Ariella was craving those cinnamon buns, and I thought I would be a great brother and bring you one.” He holds up his hand. “But if you don’t change that attitude, you’ll get nothing.”
“Thank you.” I grab the bag from him. “That was very kind of you.”
“You okay?” he asks me. “You look flushed.” He tilts his head to the side. “You aren’t coming down with something, are you?” He puts his hand in front of his face. “I can’t get sick.”
“I think”—I fake cough—“I can’t come over.” I cough again, this time in his direction. “I’m sick.”
“Why are you so evil?” he asks, edging his way to the door.
“Because I’m the middle child,” I sass, making him laugh.
“We’re having dinner tonight since I leave on Tuesday,” he says. “Jagger misses you. You haven’t been over in a month.”
“Six days is now a month? I visit when you aren’t there,” I tell him, “so I can avoid you.”
He laughs. “I’ll tell Ariella you’re coming for dinner,” he states, opening the door. “I have to go!” he shouts back as he slams the door. I hold out my hand on the island and hang my head, breathing out a sigh of relief.
His car door slams shut and then starts before he drives off. “He’s gone,” I call toward my bedroom and then look up when Zane comes back into the kitchen.
“That was not fucking fun,” Zane declares, running his hand through his hair.
“I don’t know about you”—I grab my coffee—“but I had a great time.” He glares at me.
“Do you know how small your closet is?” He puts his hands on his hips. “It’s small.”
“It’s not that small.”