Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I sneak out.
Pee, wash my face, and use whatever I can find in the cabinet as moisturizer, which is basic hand lotion. Whatever. When life hands you lemons—or in this case, when you’re stuck in a guy’s room with none of your own things—you make lemonade. You march back into the bedroom with your spine straight and chin up because you have nothing to be ashamed of except suddenly wanting what you shouldn’t be wanting.
“No walk of shame for this girl, no, ma’am.” I shut the medicine cabinet door with a decisive nod, square my shoulders, and go back into the hall.
Dallas has not moved from the bed. The truth or dare cards remain spread out on the floor, a few of them still on the comforter, strewn about this way and that.
I falter in the doorway, studying him. Wonder what’s going on behind those dark brown eyes as they drink me in, top to bottom. Bottom to top.
He’s staring, and I don’t exactly hate it.
I shiver as I step over the threshold of his bedroom, his eyes on my every move, probably imagining his face between my legs—the same way I am.
“What?” Closing the door behind me, I lock it for good measure before turning to face him, pressing my back against the door.
“I…” He hesitates. “I dare you to take the rest of your clothes off.”
“Why, Dallas Colter, you little horndog. That’s also a super aggressive dare considering you’re fully clothed.”
He doesn’t deny being a horndog. “You miss every shot you don’t take.”
“Never hurts to shoot your shot. The only thing I can do is say no.” I’d say…
Oh my effing God! Why am I doing this? Why am I suddenly visualizing myself getting naked with this guy? Him going down on me, demanding to see my boobs?
You want Dallas Colter to go down on you, that’s why. You want Dallas Colter to see your bare breasts because honest to God, they’re fantastic and you know it. You want to see the look on his face if you take your shirt off.
Really? Or am I just starving for attention because Diego rejected me on so many levels?
A great question to ask my mother, and I make a mental note to do just that as I bend at the waist to retrieve the cards scattered across the hardwood floor, bringing them with me when I rejoin him on the bed.
“Are we still playing truth or dare, or was there something else you wanted to do instead now that the vibe has been thoroughly squashed by your brother?”
He shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”
I nod. “It’s not as if we have anything better to do.” Like, oh, I don’t know—go down on each other? Have sex? Get to know each other better… Perhaps if we were both drunk, we’d be naked by now, rolling around the bed instead of getting trigger shy at the first interruption.
Dallas has his hands behind his head. “Truth.”
“You have to pick a card.”
“Pick it for me.”
Rolling my eyes, I do as he says, adding, “You’re so bossy.”
“So are you.”
Eh. “Zero people have ever called me bossy, but okay, if you insist.”
Lazily, I take in the way his tattoo wraps around the back of his bicep; it must have hurt like the dickens when he had it done. I know how sensitive the area is because that’s where my cousin Amelia used to pinch me when she was mad.
She was such a brat back when we were kids.
The card in my hand reads, “Have you ever peed yourself?”
Dallas sits up, leaning forward. “It does not say that.”
It sure does.
I hold out the card for him to verify, smiling when I set it beneath one of the piles I neatly reshuffled the decks into.
“Well? Have you ever peed yourself?”
“Obviously when I was a little kid.”
I hold the card in the air. “That’s not what this means.”
Dallas considers the question. “No, I’ve never wet the bed or pissed myself being drunk or nothin’. But I have peed in the shower. Have you?”
Have I peed in the shower? “It’s not my turn, so I don’t have to answer.”
“Which means you’ve probably pissed in the shower.”
“That was not an admission of guilt!” I laugh. “God, all I said was it’s not my turn, so technically I don’t have to answer.”
“I thought we were tryin’ to get to know each other.” He nudges my knee with his big toe.
“Are we?” Is that what this is? We’re getting to know each other? “I thought we were up here hiding because your brother’s twins browbeat me into spending the night and I’m only here to save face.”
“That too.”
I pick up a truth card for myself since it’s my turn now and read it out loud to Dallas. “What’s one thing you miss about your partner when they’re not around?”