Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
But first, someone has to say hello.
StudMuffin bounds over, all springy as he jumps up and down on his little back legs, barking happily. Milo bends down to stroke his head. “Hey cutie,” he says. Satisfied, my dog trots away to his cuddle cup and curls into a tight ball.
Now it’s my turn for attention. In the doorway, my visitor stares at me with obvious approval in his eyes. I’m wearing a simple yellow sundress and no bra. The hitch in his breath tells me he noticed the lack of confinement for the girls. “Nice dress,” he says.
I gesture to his clothes. “Nice everything. But I have a question for you.”
“Hit me up,” he says.
“What would you have done if I hadn’t found your paper airplane?”
He smiles wickedly. “I winged it your way twenty-eight minutes ago, so I’d have . . . wait for it . . . called you in two more minutes.”
“Good answer,” I say, then check out his hands. They’re empty. I tilt my head to the side. “Where’s the sandwich though?”
“Is that the price of admission?”
“I was promised a sandwich. I want a sandwich.”
He wags a finger at me. “You dirty little liar. You pretended you didn’t love sandwiches. Many times over. I offered you sandwiches; I confessed my love of sandwiches. And all along, you were loving on sandwiches too,” he says, grinning like he’s won a prize.
The prize of me. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets,” I say then I grab the neck of his shirt, tug him close, and shut him up with a kiss.
“Mmm,” he murmurs.
The man shows off his multitasking skills next when he kisses me as he pushes into my apartment, then slams the door with his foot.
Oh, yes.
That is such a wind-me-up move. I break the kiss. “That’s on a list somewhere,” I tell him. “What you just did.”
He cups my cheek possessively. “Good. I want all your lists, and I’ll make you a sandwich later, I promise,” he says, then sweeps a hot, demanding kiss against my lips.
My stomach flips. My knees weaken. I grab the neck of his shirt to hold on tighter.
He pushes me against the wall in my foyer, then drops his face to my neck, dragging his nose along my skin, drawing in a deep hit of me like he did yesterday. “Your scent is in my head,” he says, rough and hungry. “All day long. Is it your lotion? Or shampoo? Or just you?”
“Lotion,” I murmur, my hands traveling up and down his chest, exploring his pecs over the fabric of his shirt. I want him to take me against the wall. Slam my wrists over my head, yank up my skirt, tear off my panties . . .
But there’s something wet on my ankles.
Familiar too.
I break the kiss, dropping my gaze. Hot Stuff is licking my ankles. Milo chuckles as the cat finishes his feast, then sashays away, tail twitching saucily as he disappears into the living room.
“He likes your lotion too,” Milo says.
“He also loves my hair. He rubs against my head whenever he can.”
Milo wiggles a brow, then slides up against me, rubbing his face against my hair. “Smart cat.”
“You might think that’s funny, but your face in my hair turns me on,” I whisper.
“Everything you do gets me hard,” he says.
I gasp. Heat pools between my legs from his base words.
He pulls back, looks me in the eyes. His gaze is electric but vulnerable too. “Want to know why I took off so quickly this morning at work?”
“I do.”
“I didn’t want to make it too obvious at work that I was dying to see you. I wasn’t sure if you wanted anyone to know. And once I saw you, I had to get the hell out of there or everyone was going to be able to tell how much I want you,” he says, making my silly heart dance.
“I get it,” I say, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“And I didn’t want to explain all that over text. I just wanted to tell you in person.”
“We had a big flower order today,” I say, adding a confession of my own. “I wanted to tell you over text, but I didn’t know . . .”
“If I wanted to see you again?” he finishes, his tone gentle.
“Yes,” I admit softly. He’s easy to talk to. He’s so open, so non-judgmental.
He lifts my chin. “Have I mentioned I thought about you all day?”
“Maybe,” I say, fighting off a smile.
“Veronica,” he begins. “I want you so much.”
Those words are a blast of lust. I nibble on the corner of my lips as desire swallows me whole. “Will you fuck me tonight?”
He growls a yes.
One minute later, we’re on my balcony, my ass up against the brick wall, my fingers roaming over his scratchy beard. Milo cups my tits as we kiss ruthlessly, him grinding against me. It’s mind-blowing, the friction. Everyone should be kissed like this. Hell, the skyscrapers are jealous. The Brooklyn Bridge is getting turned on. The stars are horny.