Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I told you. If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
For some reason, a thrill of excitement runs through me. He searched for me. I take his hand over the table. “I like that you came looking for me.”
He sips his coffee, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable with this conversation.
“But I have to ask…. why did you? Why me?”
“Because I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he says softly, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.
I smile as I watch him. If he hasn’t ever had a girlfriend, I doubt he’s ever had these types of conversations.
Am I the first one to try and break through?
My heart flips in my chest at the prospect, and our breakfast arrives. Brock begins to eat in silence, and I feel like I need to put him at ease.
“Well, Mr. Marx. I probably should inform you that I couldn’t get you out of my head, either.” I sip my coffee. “You have had a regular position in my thoughts. Even though you’re batshit crazy,” I add.
He gives me a slow, sexy smile, and his dark eyes drop to my lips. “Have you ever been fucked on Bondi Beach before, Pock?”
I snort the coffee up my nose. “No.” I gasp for air, pounding my chest. “Absolutely not.”
What the hell? Does he think we are having sex on the beach?
What next?
“Do you have to wreck it?” I cough. “That was supposed to be a romantic moment.”
He smiles at me choking while he casually cuts into his toast.
“What are you smiling at?” I ask. God knows what’s going through that devious mind of his.
“Nothing.” He smiles to himself.
“What is that look?”
“Popping all your cherries is very high priority on my agenda, that’s all.”
I stare at him. “Well, you certainly popped the main one in a spectacular fashion.”
He smiles as he bites the food from his fork. “I haven’t even started yet, Pock.”
I stare at him, my mind a clusterfuck of emotions.
Popping cherries is Brock Marx’s language of love.
What the hell have I gotten myself into here?
“Here?” I ask as I point to the sand beneath us and look around Bondi Beach.
“Yeah, here’s good,” Brock says.
We spread our things out, and then he falls onto his towel. “Time to take that dress off, Tully Pocket.” He taps my towel laid out next to him, and he throws me a cheeky smile.
I smirk. “Have you been waiting all morning just to see me in a bikini?”
“You bet I have,” he replies without hesitation.
My stomach dances with nerves. God, no pressure. I exhale heavily and lift my dress over my shoulders, and he lies back and puts his hands behind his head to appreciate the show.
I feel like a circus act, and I’m quite sure he thinks he is getting more to look at than he actually is. Does he even remember what I look like? I glance down at him nervously, just as his hungry eyes decide to drink in every inch of my near-naked body. Time seems to stand still as I wait for him to say something.
“You’re more beautiful than I remember, Pock,” he says softly. He pats the sand next to him, and I slowly sit down, and then lie on my back. He leans up on his elbow over me, turning onto his side.
His hand goes to my hip bone, and he pulls my body to fit snug up against his. “Why were you nervous doing that?” he asks quietly.
“You make me nervous.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “You’re so much more experienced than I am.”
He frowns down at me and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Does it bother you?”
“A little,” I whisper.
“Why?”
My eyes hold his. How the hell did we get onto this conversation already?
“I’ve only ever slept with one person, and then….” My voice trails off.
“And then what?”
“And then you.”
His face falls slightly. “I hate that I did that to you in the gym.”
Shocked that he acknowledged it, my stupid eyes fill with tears, and I blink them away in hope that he doesn’t see.
“Hey,” he whispers as he pulls me closer. “Was it really that bad?”
I smile and shake my head. “No, it was… it was just out of character for me, and I know that you do that kind of thing all the time.”
He watches me for a moment but doesn’t say anything, because he knows it’s true. What is there to say?
He puts his head down onto his towel for a moment, his thoughts loud but undecipherable. “Where do you see this going, Tull?” He frowns up at the sky, deep in thought. “I don’t want you to ever feel like that again.”
“What? You mean us?” I ask.
He nods as he turns his head to look at my face again.
“Well, as the boss of us…” He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “I would like us to be... friends.”