Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I smile sweetly. “Is that a promise?”
“Damn right it is,” he snorts, sounding all kinds of cocky. “What I’m packing is more like a ten-inch threat.”
I’m not going to admit it to him, but Carter Prescott has every reason to be arrogant regarding what those roosters are hiding.
“Please…” I chortle and roll my eyes.
Before I can blink, he hoists me over his shoulder until I’m hanging upside down, staring at his perfect backside. “Carter!” I squeal. “What are you—”
His wide palm comes down across my bottom with a crack and I yelp. The cry of surprise turns into a muffled groan as he squeezes my cheek. Heat flares to life and floods my panties.
“I hope you’re going to make good on that promise,” I say breathlessly.
He massages the offended area and I squirm with need.
“Baby,” he growls, “you know I am. All night long, if need be.”
With that, he takes us to the bedroom and makes good on his promise.
And you know what?
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thank God for cocky men who know how to use what’s hiding beneath their roosters.
EPILOGUE
CARTER
Three Years Later…
I peek my head around the corner of the door to the spare bedroom Daisy has set up as a graphic design studio. Like the rest of the condo in downtown Chicago, the room is spacious with eastern facing windows that overlook the deep blue vastness of Lake Michigan. Undiluted light pours in every morning making it the perfect work space. The room is furnished with a sleek modern desk, a comfy couch, bookshelves, and two computers. One with an oversized monitor and a laptop Daisy can take with her to client appointments.
I was drafted by Chicago, and it’s been our home for two and a half years. We both love the energy of the city. It’s the perfect place for us to begin our lives together. The graphic design opportunities have been amazing for Daisy. She worked for a big firm for two years before deciding to branch out on her own with a colleague.
“Dinner’s ready,” I say, not wanting to interrupt. I know what she’s like when she’s focused on a project.
She’s sitting at the desk working on a design. I’m able to make out a few splashes of color on the monitor, but not much else. I’m more distracted by her than what she’s creating.
She looks sexy as fuck with her long hair pulled up in a messy bun at the top of her head and black rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. And let’s not even talk about the fact that she’s wearing tight fitting yoga pants and a tank top without a bra.
Yeah, I could seriously get used to this whole working-from-home thing. Especially if this is her daily attire.
I clear my throat and tamp down the rising excitement in my jeans.
It’s not easy. Not around this girl. Just thinking about her gives me a semi. You’d think that living together would have dampened some of my ardor. But it’s the complete opposite. The more I get, the more I want. I’m fucking addicted.
Clearing my throat, I add, “I made fish tacos with mango salsa.”
She turns with a distracted smile on her face. I can see all the ideas churning in her head and that’s sexy as hell, too.
Fine. What isn’t sexy about Daisy?
Not a damn thing.
“Mmmm, that sounds good. Thanks for making dinner, babe.” She puckers her lips and blows me a kiss.
It’s the offseason, so I’ve been dabbling with a few new recipes.
What can I say?
I’m a renaissance man.
Plus, now that we have this kick-ass kitchen, I enjoy puttering around, trying my hand at new healthy options. Daisy’s been working around the clock, trying to get her new business off the ground.
I’ll do whatever I can to support her. No questions asked.
She closes out of her computer program, rises to her feet, and stretches her arms above her head. The movement makes her breasts thrust out.
I groan as my gaze runs over the length of her. “Damn, woman, what are you trying to do to me?”