Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Thatcher nods. He glances over at me, maybe just to show me that he’s listening, even if he’s quiet. He hasn’t been around my cats all that often. We went straight from the lake house to the tour bus.
I watch the street. “Moffy named Toodles, which turned out to be ironic since he won’t let Moffy hold him very much. All my other cats adore my best friend.” I feel like I'm rambling, and I want to say more. To ask more.
Is this Christmas hard for you since you're away from Philly?
Do you miss your twin brother?
Being away from my cats and parents and other siblings is difficult for me, but I have family on tour with us. I wonder what he’s feeling, but I can’t broach personal questions with my bodyguard. Not ones that delve deeper into his personal life. I only know simple facts about Thatcher Moretti.
Our bodyguard-client relationship is achingly professional. It’s what we’ve established from the get-go, and he hasn’t been on my detail long. Really, he’s not even officially my bodyguard.
There’s a high probability that he’ll return to Xander once the tour ends.
And I feel a little pushy if I veer towards anything outside of his role as my protector. I don’t want to pressure him or force him to tell me things he wouldn’t want to.
I walk in safe territory. “Are you having a good time on tour so far, despite all the drama?” I wonder.
“I am,” he says huskily, “even with all the drama.”
My lips rise, but they fall as I remember my pot-induced, uninhibited self earlier. “If I made you uncomfortable at all tonight, I’m terribly sorry.”
He shakes his head immediately. “You didn’t.”
Our eyes meet in a sweltering second, as though acknowledging that I saw him in a jockstrap. He knows that I saw his bare ass, and then I stared at his dick—or the outline of his dick in his sweatpants.
Really, his bulge.
“Jane,” he says my name in this deep, intoxicating way. I drop into the abyss of his voice.
“Yes?”
The air is taut. I swear we inhale at the same time.
And then his chest tightens, his grip strengthened on the wheel, and he checks the side mirrors. “You were fine.”
I try to breathe. “That’s…um, that’s good.” I tie my frizzed hair off my blazing hot neck. “If you’d rather me be quiet and us just sit in silence, please tell me,” I remind him. “I really don’t want to annoy you.”
“You’re not.” He eyes me, then the radio. “I’d rather listen to you.” He reaches forward and lowers the volume of the holiday music.
A smile pulls at my lips, one that hurts my cheeks. “That’s also very good,” I say in a shallow breath, “because I do love talking.” My heartbeat quickens. “Some people even actually believe that the tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body.”
We lock eyes again, this time for the briefest but seemingly longest moment of my life.
“I mean the tongue does incredible things if you think about it,” I continue on. “Talking and eating and swallowing.” Heat suddenly basks and radiates the front section of the bus. He must be feeling the scorch too because he adjusts the air conditioning for us both.
Swallowing. There are many connotations to the word, and the one that I fix on happens to be oral. His cock, specifically. Taking him in my mouth, and then I wonder what his erection even looks like—and that is...
He’s your bodyguard.
It will…never happen. It can’t.
Thatcher curls some pieces of his longish hair behind his ears. Quiet like usual. Nothing is amiss. He even maintains focus on the road.
I take a breath and try to course correct. “But,” I begin again, “while most people believe it’s the tongue, I personally think the heart is the strongest muscular organ. Really, it’s keeping all of us alive.” I say without thinking, “But I do love my tongue.” I gesture to him for some odd reason. “It’s necessary for many things.”
Like brilliant head.
I press my lips together. I can’t believe I’m thinking about blowjobs when he’s sitting right beside me. It’s one thing to be alone in my bedroom with my favorite vibrator and these thoughts—another to be in breathing distance of him.
His muscles have tensed. “A tongue is a good organ.”
Intrigue lights up my eyes. What is your favorite thing to do with your tongue? What do you love most in life? Who are you really? So many questions tumble in my head, and yet, I don't ask a single one. “It is,” I say softly.
I start rambling about eggnog. Truly the best holiday drink in existence, and I check my phone for missed texts.
I see one from Nate. My friends-with-benefits.
I go quiet while I read.
NATE
Hey. Going to be in San Diego next week. If you’re around there, we should meet up.