Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
He’s about to head to the bathroom but I catch his hand, yanking him back over toward me.
This time, I kiss him first.
I push my body up against his, holding the sides of his face as I crush my lips against his. “Thank you for coming upstairs,” I say near his face as I pull away, still holding him. “I was hoping you would. I was hoping for it all fucking night.”
“You are really sexy when you’re telling me the truth. You sure I’m not too much?”
“You are too much. And I want you to keep being too much, because I want all of it.”
“Fuck, you’re going to make me blush. Or come. Both, I hope.”
I kiss the side of his neck. “Are you sure you have to shower? You smell pretty great when you’re sweaty, Chase.”
He hums as I bring my lips to his again. I back him up against the outer glass wall of the shower, kissing him until my lips are bitten and swollen, like all I want is to be glued to him.
CHAPTER 18
CHASE
I sit on the couch with Logan after I shower and reach for Logan’s laptop on the coffee table. “Mind if I use this?” I ask him.
“Sure.”
I pry it open and the first thing that flashes up on the screen is my own Instagram page. It’s open to one of the videos where I was painting while shirtless, and the video is paused as I’m reaching up to the corner of a tall canvas, highlighting the muscles on my back.
I suppress a grin, turning to lift an eyebrow at him.
“I’ve gotten even better at my workout routine since last year, you know,” I murmur. “If you need some tips and tricks, just ask—”
“Fuck off,” he mumbles, and I can’t help but smile completely. His cheeks are turning pink as he reaches over to the laptop, closing that tab. “I should have shut this thing down last time. And I have two personal trainers, Chase. I play a football pro on TV. I’ve got it handled.”
“Sure, sure. I guess you paused on my back to check out my tattoo, then?”
“You know that your tattoos aren’t the only interesting thing about you, right, Chase? I usually don’t even care about tattoos—”
“You like mine. You fucking love them.”
He leans back on the couch, sighing as his eyes fall on mine. “That’s completely true. Yours are beautiful. But I can’t tell you that without making your ego even bigger than it already is.”
I wave my hand through the air, turning back to the laptop and hiding my quiet satisfaction. I bring up a few new tabs, typing various locations into Google Maps.
“Okay,” I tell him, putting the laptop in the center of the table so he can see it, too. “I’ve done a couple of portrait shoots for my friends in this park, and it’s a great location. We couldn’t exactly have you naked in public, though, so this would only be if we did some more clothed, fashion-editorial type of photoshoots.”
I tab over to the next one, bringing it up.
“This is another location where I’ve worked. It’s an abandoned factory, and no one is around for at least a mile. We could do it here. Bring in a chair, have you sit on it looking pretty. Or we can drive out into the forest and do a sort of rugged, camping style of photoshoot. I’m sure your fans would fucking love seeing you nude in a forest getting all pumped up while you set up a tent.”
Logan cocks his head to one side, looking at me. “I want to do it in your art studio.”
I sit back on the couch. “What? My studio is tiny, Logan. It’s about the size of a big closet. I can’t afford much more.”
“But it has windows. Natural light. And every wall has cool art on it, some of it finished, and some of it in-progress.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You want to release naked pictures of yourself with my art in the background?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I thought you would like that.”
I lean further back on the couch, scrubbing my palms over my face and then through my hair.
Oh God.
Just act normal.
Yes, he just sat there and said the nicest thing you’ve ever had someone say to you.
But you don’t need to make a big thing out of it.
“That could work,” I tell him, sitting back up and nodding.
He stares at me and I hate how good his grey eyes look as they reflect the light from the fire.
“You sure?” he asks. “You seemed like you were about to tell me no.”
I shake my head, closing the laptop lid and scooting back on the couch. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I ignore it, but when it keeps buzzing again and again I realize someone’s calling me.