Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
My nod is slow.
“You’re starting to make that face again,” he tells me. “The hot and bothered one.” Pause. “You probably shouldn’t play any poker in Vegas.”
“I’ll remember that next time I’m in Vegas.”
“Ever been?”
thirty-four
drake
I may not have been your first kiss, or your first fuck. But I want to be your last of everything.
“No, but my cousin Georgia got drunk and married her roommate there once,” are the last words I thought would come out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“My cousin went to Vegas with her roommate—some rugby player from London—and they got drunk and handsy in a hot tub and ended up in a drive-through wedding chapel.”
“Are you bein’ serious right now?”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
“Wow. That’s…” Crazy.
Wild.
Awesome.
“Would you do somethin’ like that?”
“Would you?”
“You can’t answer my question with a question. It’s against the rules.”
“I’d also probably have to be drunk.” She sighs. “Would you?”
“If I was in love, I would.” Maybe.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No. Have you already forgotten I’ve never had a relationship with anyone other than my football coaches?” My father saw to that. In fact, it shocks me to this day that my brothers Dallas and Duke are in seemingly “normal” relationships.
“I do keep forgetting that,” Daisy says. “I just assume, ’cause you’re so…you, that you would have had a girlfriend.”
“I’m so me. What does that mean?”
“Yes. You’re funny and a good catch. It blows my mind that you haven’t had at least one or two girlfriends. Ever.”
“You think I’m a good catch?”
Daisy rolls her eyes. “You know you are.”
“I mean. Yeah.”
I know I’m a good catch, if not for the single fact that my professional future looks likely to be on a national scale where I’ll be raking in millions—if I’m lucky. And if I don’t tear a ligament or break a bone.
Still nice to hear her admit it.
Another eye roll. “So modest, too.”
Her expression makes me laugh, my laugh changing her expression.
“It seriously annoys me how cute you are,” she huffs. “Seriously irritating. You’re so obnoxious.”
“Do I get your panties wet?” I blurt out without thinking first.
“What if you do?” she whispers.
“I consider that good news.”
“Good.” Her voice is still hushed. “Do I get you hard?”
“I thought we established that.”
“Did we?”
“I’m hard right now.”
My dick is throbbing, actually. Her voice, her tone, the look in her eyes are enough to get me hard without her having to talk dirty to me.
Is this what it’s like when you’re attracted to someone?
Yeah—I’m attracted to all the chicks I’ve fucked before I met Daisy, but it was surface-level attraction, if that makes sense. With Daisy, it’s like I’m attracted to her personality, too. I wasn’t planning on any of this happening, but now that it has, I could get used to this; the bantering and flirting and getting hard just looking at her pretty face staring back at me.
She’s not even in the same damn room, and she’s making me hard.
She’s not even naked.
She’s wearing an old ass sweatshirt, for fuck’s sake.
That seems enough to make me horny as hell.
I think Daisy could breathe on me and I’d get hard, and that’s where we’re at in our relationship.
Relationship.
That what this is?
I don’t dare fucking ask her. What if she tells me to piss off? What if she tells me she’s just entertaining her curiosity because I acted like a damn fool?
“How often do you jerk off?”
“Uh. Often enough.” No sense in denying it. “What about you?”
Her head wobbles back and forth. “Mmm. I just discovered vibrators. My roommate Gabby had a virtual sex toy party during the pandemic lockdown, and I bought like, three.”
Interesting. “Do you have a favorite?”
“Yes.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“It’s navy blue and buzzes so strongly that it’s borderline terrifying.”
Buzzes so strongly that it’s terrifying?
My chuckle rumbles my chest. “I have no idea what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Or. Maybe there’s a chance that I’ll get to witness this phenomenon firsthand—if I’m lucky and play my cards right.
“It means that if I’m not careful, I could probably give myself beard burn on my you-know-what.”
I smile knowingly. “I know what.”
Daisy blushes, pulling the neckline of her sweatshirt up, covering her mouth so that only her nose and eyes are peeking out.
Adorable.
“Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly gone shy.”
“Was I shy tonight in the bathroom when you were going down on me?”
“No?”
“No.” She pulls the sweatshirt back into place so I can see her entire face. “I wasn’t.”
“You know what, you sassy little shit? I can’t wait to get my hands on you again. And my mouth.”
“Want to know something?” Daisy watches me intently. “I like it when you call me sassy. It makes me feel like a badass.”
She likes it.
I wonder if she likes dirty talk, too. If she likes having her ass played with. Or being spanked.