Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“After last night what could possibly scare her off?” Brandon brings up. I laugh.
“Good point. We’ll just be casual about it, then,” I say. He nods in agreement.
“Anything you want to try tonight?” A smile accompanies his question. I can’t help but grin in response.
“I’m sure we can come up with something,” I say with a chuckle.
Just then, a stereotypically pretty bartender interrupts the conversation.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” she asks coyly. She’s wearing a leather vest with nothing underneath, and the tiny piece of fabric barely covers her large assets. Her eyes travel across Brandon’s arms and chest, then her gaze meets mine and she smiles. It’s a seductive kind of smile – one that most men would love. She probably gets a lot of guys to flirt with her. Maybe she even takes some home at the end of her shift. I turn my eyes to Brandon as he declines the refill and looks entirely unaffected by this woman.
“Just the bill, thanks,” I say. I make sure my tone is completely professional. It’s a voice that I use with investors and franchisees at Muscle Nation. Her smile falters somewhat before she nods her head and walks to the register behind her.
“I think you broke her heart,” Brandon says. I huff out a laugh.
“I highly doubt one interaction had heartbreaking qualities.”
“She’s probably going to cry in the bathroom after we leave,” he jokes.
“That’s a little dramatic,” I say with a smile. “You know she’s not our type, anyway.” My voice is low and hard to hear over the din of the bar.
Brandon nods curtly.
“She’s not because she’s too scrawny,” he says in agreement. “Jane though,” he adds with a devious grin. “Now she’s definitely our type.” His smile is contagious, and I find myself trying to tamp down on my own as the waitress returns with the bill.
After we’ve paid, we find ourselves in the elevator alone and it’s hard to keep my hands to myself. I’m excited for the future. Finding Jane seems like it was meant to be. Nibbling on Brandon’s chiseled jaw and ghosting hands across his toned shoulders in the confined space has the heat increasing. His quiet moans and the grip he has on my back has me growing hard in my pants.
The elevator dings and we separate just before the doors open. In the room, it’s hard to hold back. Kisses grow more urgent, hands more insistent.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brandon breathes. My hands still. “We should wait for Jane to get here.” He’s right. It will be so much better when she’s with us. I place one more kiss on his panting mouth before stepping back, trailing my hands from his body.
“You’re right,” I say aloud. “Good thinking.” Brandon nods.
I cross to the mini bar for something to do while we wait. After choosing a beverage for myself and pouring one over ice for Brandon, we sip in relative silence. Heavy eye contact in conjunction with the alcohol makes the room seem stifling. I watch as Brandon licks a drop of rum from his lips, his tongue dragging slowly across his bottom lip.
“It’s hot in here,” he says as he begins to unbutton the shirt he’s wearing. The white ribbed tank top beneath his shirt becomes more visible with every opened button, the thin fabric clinging to the defined muscle of his chest and torso. When his button down is hanging open from his shoulders, I stand from my leaning position against the desk.
“Let me help you with that,” I say, crossing the room to reach for his shirt. I intentionally drag my fingertips across bare shoulders as I remove the shirt from his body, tossing the fabric in the corner. My hands nearly have a mind of their own as they return to his taut shoulders, kneading and rubbing at the firm muscle found there.
I continue the massage for a few minutes before leaning over Brandon’s form and placing an open-mouthed kiss at the hinge of his jaw. I watch his Adam’s apple dip with a swallow as I raise up and return to my spot by the desk. Picking up my beverage, I take another deep drink, never losing eye contact with my lover. His lip becomes trapped between his teeth and I watch as his eyes grow darker, the blue nearly overtaken by the blackness of his pupil.
“Jane can’t get here soon enough,” he rasps into the otherwise silent room.
I nod my assent.
“Impatient?” I tease.
“Very,” he smirks. I smile in return.
“It will be worth it,” I tell him. Brandon’s nod tells me he believes so, too.
The room returns to silence. Then, the silence is broken by a quick, three pattern knock. Brandon and I smile at one another as he rises to answer the door. He swings it open to reveal the object of our affections, Jane herself. Beyond Brandon’s form, I can only make out the dark wash of her jeans and a hand smoothing over her upper thigh, as if she had to wipe the sweat from her palms.