Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108049 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Then another.
And another.
Soon I can’t breathe, doubled over in a painful fit. It just won’t stop. Every time I look at his face, a new wave of laughter overtakes me, and tears spill down my cheeks. He’s too fucking much.
“Taylor.” Conor rakes both hands through his hair. “Taylor, stop laughing at me.”
“I can’t!”
“You’re doing irreparable harm to my ego here.”
Gasping, I take deep breaths. Eventually, the laughter subsides to giggles. “Thank you,” I manage to croak out. “I needed that.”
“You know what?” he growls, a cranky scowl on his face. “I take it all back. You’re dick kryptonite.”
“Aww. Come here.” I climb back on the bed and pet the spot beside me.
Instead of being a normal person, he takes it upon himself to lie down and drop his head and shoulders across my lap.
It doesn’t escape me that I now have a sexy man in his boxers draped over me. And it’s difficult to focus with him looking so, well, like that. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Conor half-naked, and yet the effect is no less impressive. He’s what guys picture in the mirror when they’re lifting weights and mugging for gym selfies. Every douchebag in a tank top thinks he’s Conor Fucking Edwards.
“I can’t believe you didn’t get naked,” he grumbles in accusation.
“I’m sorry. That was a very sweet invitation, but I respectfully decline.”
“Well, that makes you my first.”
Conor stares up at me with those gorgeous gray eyes, and for one fleeting moment an image flashes through my mind. Me, leaning down. Him, cupping the side of my face. Our lips meeting in the space between us…
Do not kiss him, Taylor!
My inner alarm system kicks in, causing my silly schoolgirl kissing fantasy to dissolve just as quickly as it appeared.
“I’m your first what?” I ask, trying to remember what we’re talking about. Conor Edwards is in my lap and it’s really quite distracting.
“First girl to ever reject my cock.”
“Not for the first time, either,” I remind him.
“Yes, thank you, Taylor. You find me unfuckable. I get it.” Conor flicks up an eyebrow. “It’d be a shame, though.”
His hair begs for fingers. To drag them through the soft strands. To touch. My hand itches with the urge to fulfill that wish. “What’s a shame?”
“Don’t stop.” It isn’t until he speaks that I realize my fingers have run off on their own accord. “That feels good.”
So I continue, combing my fingers through his hair. Softly pulling my nails across his scalp. “What’s a shame?”
“Well, we’ve laid such great groundwork already. Spent a night of mind-blowing sex together. Everyone thinks you’ve got me pussy-tranced into falling in love with you. Seems unfortunate to let that all go to waste?”
I eye him suspiciously. “What do you propose?”
“Let’s ride it out.”
“Ride it out.” I play with the idea in my head, turning it over. It is, of course, a terribly dishonest and immature suggestion. So, naturally, I’m intrigued. “To what end?”
“Marriage, death, or graduation,” he says. “Whichever comes first.”
“Okay. But why? What’s in it for you?”
“A cure for my boredom.” He grins up at me. “I like games, T. This feels like it’ll be a fun one.”
“Uh-huh. But what if my perfect man comes along to sweep me off my feet but he gets scared away by Conor Fucking Edwards sniffing around my petticoats?”
“First, yes, keep calling me that. Second, if he can’t take a little healthy competition, he isn’t your perfect man. Trust me on that, babe.”
Every time he calls me babe a stab of electricity shoots through my chest. I wonder if he feels my pulse spike. Or maybe he knows all too well he has that effect on every girl and I am but a toy doll off the assembly line. Lot 251 per one billion. Wind me up and watch me go.
“Fine. What about your admirers?” I counter. “What if Natalie from Tri-Delt wants another go and suddenly you have a fake girlfriend?”
He shrugs. “I’m not interested in another go with her.”
“Bull. Have you seen her hair? It’s so shiny.”
That earns me a snicker. “Shiny hair aside, I’m being serious. She posted a pic of me naked in her bed when I was asleep. That ain’t cool with me. Consent, you know?”
“Bull,” I say again. “Look at you.” With both hands, I gesture toward his half-naked Playgirl physique. “You probably love flaunting it for the camera.”
“Not without my consent,” he repeats, and the hard look on his face tells me he really wasn’t fond of Natalie’s actions.
I suppose I can’t blame him. I still have nightmares about Kappa pledge week and all the embarrassing shit the seniors filmed us doing.
“Anyway,” he goes on, “maybe I need a break from the sex circuit. Take some time to regroup.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Sex circuit? Oh my God. Must you be so gross?”