Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
When I do as asked, the shudder wobbling my thighs is for a completely different reason than embarrassment. He cusses for the second time before palming the rock behind his zipper.
“Hm-mm, even sexier than my deviant head imagined.” My emotions don’t know which way to swing when he says, “But I need to take my time with you so I can savor you.”
His confession shocks me. Things are moving quickly, but if this were my standard Friday night ritual, he would be finished and snoring by now, so I run with it.
My clit thumps out a mariachi beat when he returns his eyes to my face before saying, “I have a permanent reservation at a hotel a couple of miles from here.” I must express something I didn’t mean to show, because he’s quick to try to settle my unease. “I’ve never taken anyone there. I don’t work when I come home.” His last mumbled sentence fills my head with many questions, but his following ensures nothing but my libido has center stage. “But I’d like you to be the first.”
The tension weakens a smidge when I jokingly ask, “How much will it cost me?”
“Not a damn thing,” he replies, grinning.
After tugging down my dress until it covers my damp panties, he curls his hand around mine before hightailing it out of the office we were about to sully.
“Zane…”
A woman with inky-black hair and a fond twinkle in her eyes greets us when she spots our veer past a massive industrial kitchen. She’s at a cooking station housing a dozen plates with tiny portions of food that cost a fortune to purchase.
“Not now, Casey,” Zane replies, alerting me to his name. “But I’ll be back in plenty of time to help you with wedding day prep.”
I barely balk. It doesn’t cause the slightest ripple, but Zane must feel it.
After freeing my hand from his so the sweat dripping off mine doesn’t impede his grip, he places his hand onto the curve of my back so I can’t sprint for the exit before he confesses, “Our mother is getting married next weekend.” He says “our” in a way I can’t misunderstand. Casey is his sister. “I think it’s husband number eight.”
“Nine,” Casey corrects while cleaning a plate the server is about to take. Once it is as spotless as a snob willing to pay a hundred dollars an appetizer would expect, she lifts her eyes to me. They’re kind yet teasing. “Her constant quest for the new love feeling is why I’ve never seen my little brother with a person of the opposite sex.” She doesn’t allow me to tell her we’ve just met. After wiping her hands on her apron like she’s the one with sweaty palms, she offers one in greeting to me. “It’s lovely to meet you…”
When she leaves her greeting open, Zane watches me with as much interest as his sister does.
“Kelsey,” I stammer out nervously. “Your restaurant is lovely. I’ve never eaten here, but I’ve heard the food is worth its hefty price tag.”
The wish to ram my foot into my mouth lessens when Casey smiles. “Thank you. It isn’t to everyone’s palate, but it keeps the lights on.” She’s being modest. Her tone exposes this, not to mention her flashy tennis bracelet. “Can I make you guys something? The salmon is a little—”
“No, we’re fine,” Zane interrupts. “We’ll eat at the hotel.”
When Casey screws up her face in disgust, I say with a laugh, “I tried to warn him off room service. It’s rarely appetizing.”
Hot heat tracks through me when Zane mutters under his breath, “You won’t be saying that later tonight.”
The pulse I can’t calm reminds me that we’re not darting through the underbelly of one of Ravenshoe’s finest establishments for no reason.
We’re meant to be having raunchy forget-him sex.
I really need to learn how to school my expressions. A second after my thighs press together, Casey backs away with her hands in the air like I’m a ticking bomb. “Ten a.m. Monday, Zane. I can’t be expected to feed the masses and organize the place settings.”
Zane grumbles something under his breath, but I miss what he says because he continues our brisk exit.
I’ve only just returned Casey’s goodbye wave when we exit the restaurant via the service entrance and make a beeline for the taxi stand.
“It’s Friday night, two weeks out from Christmas. We won’t get a cab for hours…” My words trail off when a taxi stops directly in front of us to let a man out. He looks oddly similar to the Santa operating the charity collection zone in front of the restaurant. Even his suit is of the same high quality.
“If you’ve changed your mind, you can back out. I won’t hold it against you.” Zane is giving me an out, but he still slides into the back of the cab after me and announces his hotel to the driver.