Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Ouch,” I say. “Can’t forget about your mom, Kat.”
“Shut up,” she says.
“Kat, be nice,” her mom interjects.
“It’s just food,” I add, giving her the sweetest smile I can muster, but all I get back are death stares, which only makes me want to laugh more. I don’t know why I love it so much when she’s upset. Why it makes me hunger for the time when her mother leaves and I’m alone with her … so I can strip her naked and lick her skin.
But first … dinner.
Kat
When everyone’s full, Declan brings the plates to the kitchen and starts washing them off while I help Mom out.
“Let me know if you need any help with Dad, okay?” I say.
“It’s fine, honey. I can handle him myself,” she says with a smile. “Besides, you have other … business to take care of.” She gives Declan the side-eye. Kissing me on the cheeks, she turns toward him, saying, “Lovely to meet you, Declan!”
“It was great meeting you too, Meredith,” he replies with a big smile, making me wanna vomit. But that would be a waste of the good food.
“Such a sweet young man,” she says, nudging me in the side with her elbow while winking.
Declan snorts, but when he sees me glare, he immediately turns his head toward the sink and continues washing the dishes.
I’m not finished with him. Not by a long shot.
As I march over to him and tap him on the shoulder, he puts down the fragile plates and glances at me over his shoulder. “Enjoy the food?”
I fold my arms. “Really? That’s what you’re going to ask?”
“What else?” He shrugs, casually avoiding the actual problem, which he knows damn well.
“Why are you even here?” I ask, licking my lips.
“You didn’t answer my calls, so I figured I’d stop by with some food. You were hungry, no?”
“That’s not the point,” I say even though I did eat my fair share. “You used my mother to get to me.”
“I didn’t, really. Like I said, it’s not my fault she picked up the phone,” he jests.
“Seriously?” I lean against the counter beside him, waiting until he finally stops doing the dishes to look at me. “Last time we spoke, you were a complete asshole. Just like all the times before.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here,” he replies, glancing at me with those sexy eyes of his again.
Goddamn, I can’t even stop thinking about him that way, despite wanting to so badly.
“No, you said you didn’t want a relationship. Why all this wooing?” I ask.
“Who says I’m wooing anyone?” he says, smirking like he always does. And fuck, it actually makes me want to kiss him. But I shouldn’t. Fuck him and his fucked-up sense of judgment.
“Listen, dude,” I say, clearing my throat. “I don’t like getting fucked.”
“You sure about that?”
The way he says it immediately makes my heart drop, and I know I’m turning red, but I don’t care. “I mean the emotional way, not the literal.”
“Oh …”
God, he’s really getting under my skin now, and it’s making me grind my teeth.
“The point is, you’ve been stalking my ass, and I don’t like it one bit,” I say.
“Likewise,” he retorts, throwing in another smirk that makes me want to punch him … or kiss him. I’m not sure yet which one is more accurate.
“I wasn’t stalking you,” I say. “You sent me that picture. Wasn’t my fault I found out where you work.”
He stops washing the dishes and steps closer, placing his hands on the counter right beside me. “I didn’t ask you for your address. Wasn’t my fault your mom picked up to tell me anyway.”
The grin that follows makes my heart flutter … and my fist tighten.
Well, fucking touché to him.
He inches closer again, this time placing his hands right beside my body so I can’t escape. “As a matter of fact, I still don’t know if Kat Bronson is really your name, considering you have two cell phones and all,” he muses. “Are you ever going to tell me?”
“Maybe,” I say, cocking my head. “Or maybe not.”
“Hmm … secretive …” he murmurs. “Which is strange, coming from a slutty kitten like you.”
I gasp, and my immediate reaction is to dunk my hand in the water and throw it at him. By the time I realize I actually did it, half his shirt and face are soaked.
I put my hand in front of my mouth as I notice his white shirt has become see-through, partially revealing his thick pecs and ripped abs. Lord, give me strength.
When he opens his eyes again, he seems mildly pissed off.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin—”
Out of nowhere, water splashes all over my face and shirt.
I sputter it out. “Really?”
“You started it,” he says.
Jesus, we’re like a bunch of kids.
“I like the view, though,” he murmurs in a low voice.