Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I covered my mouth as I cracked up. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah. My dad was sent in that night to give me a birds-and-bees talk. At the end, he told me he’d love me no matter who I was.”
“Aww…that’s so sweet.”
“Yeah. But for the next few years, my mom followed me and my buddies around the house whenever I had friends over. I had to keep the bedroom door open when boys came to hang out, and sleepovers were pretty much forbidden. It sucked. But around thirteen I realized it also had an upside.”
“What’s that?”
“When I brought Kendall Meyer home, I could feel her up in private without worrying about anyone barging in. My mom treated the girls I brought home like a straight kid’s male friends. I could close the door and lock it, and she didn’t think anything of it.”
The two of us spent hours sharing more embarrassing stories. We wound up staying at the swingers’ bar until after midnight. On the drive home, as I’d suspected he would, Bennett poked fun at my narration. I was surprised to find we lived less than a mile apart.
“Checking rearview mirror. Pulling to the curb,” I whispered as I arrived in front of his building. A few seconds later. “Putting car into park.”
When I looked over at Bennett, I saw he had a funny grin. “What?”
“Just wondering if there’s anything else you narrate?”
“No. Just driving.”
He flaunted a mischievous half grin. “I was imagining you narrating sex for the entire drive home. Taking off panties. Opening legs wide. Pulling down boxers. Attempting to wrap my fingers around—”
I interrupted. “I get the idea. I think you’re going to be splurging on some fresh copies of Better Homes & Gardens with that imagination.”
Bennett grabbed the door handle. “You have no idea, Texas.”
I was glad it was dark, because this time my face flushed for a different reason than lying.
He opened the door. “Goodnight. Thanks for the amusing ride home.”
I’d started the evening so miserable and was ending it with a smile. I realized Bennett had given that to me, and I hadn’t thanked him. Rolling down my window, I called after him as he rounded the car and hit the sidewalk. “Bennett?”
He turned back. “Texas?”
“Thanks for tonight. Maybe you’re not such a jerk after all.”
The streetlight illuminated his face enough so I caught his wink. “Don’t be too sure of that.”
He turned to walk toward his door, but continued to speak loud enough so I could hear. “Bending her over the bed. Wrapping crazy blonde hair around my fist. Tugging hard while spreading legs wide.” He opened the front door and stopped for a brief second before going in. “Much better than Woman’s Day tonight.”
Chapter 14
* * *
Bennett
Three nights in a row.
And now this.
What the fuck? I blinked a few times, attempting to rid myself of another new fantasy. It almost worked, but then Jonas pushed a bunch of file folders around on his desk, looking for something, which caused a stapler to fall off on the side where we were sitting. Annalise leaned forward to pick it up. Her damn hair tumbled forward to one side, giving me a clear view of the creamy skin of her neck. It looked so soft and smooth—my brain jumped to wondering if she was smooth all over.
A few days ago, the night Annalise had dropped me at home, I’d jerked off to thoughts of her before going to bed. It was normal, I’d told myself. I’d just had dinner and drinks with a beautiful woman—any guy who didn’t come home imagining her blonde hair wrapped around his fist while her sexy ass was perched up on all fours really was buying Woman’s Day to read the articles.
One-hundred-percent normal. Meant nothing at all. So why not indulge? One night of fantasy couldn’t hurt. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d fantasized about a colleague. No one would know. No harm, no foul. But one night had turned into two, and two had turned into three, and then yesterday when I walked into the break room and found Annalise bending over to grab something out of the refrigerator, I’d actually started to get hard. At work. In the middle of the fucking day. To visions of the shapely ass of a woman I needed to obliterate, not fantasize about until I ruined a two-thousand-dollar suit with an embarrassing teenage-boy moment.
So I’d retreated over the last forty-eight hours—giving her the cold shoulder yesterday and again this morning. I’d made a mental decision not to allow myself to think about her, except for ways to come out the victor on every pitch. Unfortunately, my eyes didn’t get the message. And that just pissed me off. Each time I caught my gaze wandering her way, I reined myself back by harnessing the anger over my momentary lapse in judgment. Which meant I’d been a dick a lot in today’s meeting. But it sure as shit wasn’t my fault her red skirt showed off a lot of leg and kept catching my eye. Or that she wore skinny, four-inch heels that wrapped around her delicate ankle and begged to pierce the skin on my back.