Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I reluctantly climbed into the limo. Benny expected my return, but I couldn’t go back in the police station as Chase’s girlfriend when I’d already claimed we weren’t going to be together.
“I found your Twitter name and started following you.”
“Oh god.” I hid my face with my hands. “Have you been following me the whole time?”
“Yes. And you’re hilarious. I loved the tweet about my fingers.” He shut the door behind him. “But last month you tweeted your bucket list.”
“Okay?”
Where is this going?
“I wrote them down, but my favorite one besides ‘hump Tom Cruise’s leg’ was when you said you wanted to bike around Paris, sampling food in gourmet specialty shops.”
“So?” Anticipation fluttered in my stomach.
“Let’s go to Paris, baby.”
I screamed.
Chapter 19
Tomorrow
For the fiftieth time, Chase replayed the last ten seconds of the Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever.
I laughed and wrapped myself in a huge red cashmere blanket. The soft fabric caressed my skin like a devoted lover. I’d refused to unfold my body from the blanket since I first discovered it.
“Did you catch that?” Chase asked.
“No.” Grinning, I rolled my eyes. “Okay. Play the song just one more time.”
“Pay attention.” He pouted and replayed the last vocals again.
The bed vibrated from the plane’s engine, which Chase claimed was under his small bedroom.
After two bottles of wine, we debated the impossibility of the engine’s location for an hour. Unfortunately, the pilot confirmed Chase’s claims, but I bet the poor guy was too scared to go against him.
Chase paused the song. “Can you hear it?”
I shrugged. “I can barely make it out and only because you told me John Lennon is saying ‘Cranberry sauce.’ However, I can see why people thought it was ‘I buried Paul.’”
“Well, when people heard it, there were all these rumors that Paul McCartney was dead.”
I stretched my legs and bent my toes as I made myself more comfortable on his bed. “You act like you were alive then.”
“I wish.” He set the stereo’s remote down on the tiny nightstand next to us. “The music from the ’60s and ’70s beats anything that’s been released nowadays.”
“Oh no.” I hid under the blanket. “You’re one of those clowns who thinks old music is better than new.”
“It is. Name something that’s better than what I’ve played for you tonight.”
“Lady GaGa.” I giggled.
“This is your second warning. No more disrespecting my music.” He snatched the blanket away and attacked me with kisses on my lips, face, and neck.
His hands gripped my hips, but didn’t stray to other places. When he ended the delicious torture, my panties were wet, nipples hard, and lust curled in places, hoping he would kiss them there, too.
The blanket fell away from my body and landed behind me.
I stared back at him with hooded eyes and hunger swirling through my chest.
“Hmmm. Don’t look at me like that.” He climbed off me, wearing no shirt. His arm muscles bulged with the movement.
A nice-sized erection pressed outward against his black jogging pants.
“We don’t have to do your whole wait to have sex challenge.” Dressed in only Chase’s t-shirt and my panties, I lifted my shirt a little and exposed my bare legs.
He shifted his view to my thighs. “No. I want to show you that this arrangement will be more than sex.”
“I think waiting the whole month is a bit crazy.” I spread my legs open. His t-shirt rose more and revealed a pair of pink panties to him.
“Damn. Maybe we’ll just wait a week or two.” Licking his lips, Chase gripped his erection with a shaking hand and edged away.
My sex clenched and I wished I could touch him there, but he’d been moving my hands away all night, each time I tried to sneak a feel.
“Or we can make love now and then wait a week or two.” I wagged my eyebrows at him.
“You just drank a bottle of wine. You’ll wake up tomorrow pissed at me.”
I considered what he said. “I doubt it.”
“We should get some rest.” He switched off the light. “Once the plane drops in Paris, I’ve got a feeling you’ll keep me up the whole time we’re there and drag me around the city, visiting shops and eating weird food.”
“It won’t be weird.”
“You said you wanted to try head cheese.” He scrunched his nose up as if he’d smelled something rank.
“I bet it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
I’d explained that head cheese was not cheese at all, but sort of a meat jelly that was made from the boiling parts of a calf or pig’s head. His face had actually turned red from the details. Telling him that the brain, eyes, and ears were not boiled with the head to make the cheese did not soothe his fears at all.
“I’m not eating it,” he declared.
“You promised.”
He groaned. “Whatever. Let’s go to sleep. You’ve kept us up long enough.”