Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
But when he looked at me with those kind, hazel eyes, and asked me in a deep voice if I wanted someone to boss me around?
Yep. Fucked. I was totally fucked.
And so hard under my jeans that it was starting to hurt.
I swallowed. I was trying to maintain my composure on the outside, not giving away the fact that I was already dying for him to do whatever he wanted to me.
“Sometimes I want someone to tell me what to do, yes,” I told him. “And sometimes I want to tell someone else what to do, too.”
Rome hummed. “I’m starting to think you were made to drive me insane,” he said. “And that you’re reading my mind. And you know exactly what turns me the fuck on.”
Now it was my turn to tease him right back. “I thought you said I was too young for you?”
“I think I don’t care anymore,” he said, his voice a low purr. “Or, maybe I’m starting to like it.”
“Damn,” I whispered, shifting in my chair to try to get my dick into a slightly more comfortable position.
“Come over here and kiss me again.”
The inside of my chest went molten. “Who says I want to kiss you again?” I bluffed, knowing he’d catch that bluff in two seconds flat.
“You say it,” he told me, calmly and confidently. “With your eyes. With every word you’ve said to me since you saw me. With that thick bulge at the front of your pants.”
I sucked in air. “Like you don’t have a bulge, too?”
“Kiss me,” Rome repeated.
I groaned. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
I looked around. Jade Brewery was calm, friendly, and cozy as always. Across the bar I could still see Shawn, Nathan, and Charlie, having a chat over some drinks, and Harlan was restocking bottles of cinnamon ale behind the bar.
“Because the moment your mouth is on mine again,” I said, my voice low and steady, “I’m going to want to push you onto the top of this bar and make you come. And that’s just not appropriate in public, okay?”
This earned a lopsided smile from Rome, crinkling up to his eyes again in that irresistible way.
“God, I like you,” he said.
“Then come home with me,” I offered. “I’m just a few blocks away. I know you’re curious about my backsplash, right?”
I waited, wondering if I’d said too much again.
I was being crazy, inviting him home, right?
But he picked up his beer and tossed the rest of it back in five seconds flat. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”
Adrenaline shot through me as I attempted to finish the rest of my margarita. It had been a shot in the dark asking him to come home with me at all, and I sure as shit hadn’t known whether he’d say yes or not. But soon we were tossing cash on the bar and my heart was pounding faster in my chest. I headed over toward the Fixer Brothers, thanked them for inviting me, and got words of encouragement from all of them on the hottie I was bringing home.
And then I was heading back out into the cold December night, with Rome right beside me. The rush of adrenaline had become a full-blown five-alarm fire in my body.
As we were walking down the set of wooden steps on the front patio of Jade Brewery, I stumbled on one of them, almost face planting right into a mound of snow.
Rome caught my arm.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said. His firm grip was comforting on my upper arm. “You alright? I didn’t think you’d had that much liquor in the margarita.”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain composure. His face was framed by a halo of decorative lights just behind him—lights he’d hung up, himself, probably an hour ago.
He sure as shit looked like a Christmas miracle to me.
“No, it’s definitely not the liquor,” I said. “I don’t feel drunk, I’m just freaking out.”
His brow furrowed. We stopped there at the edge of the stairs, on the path that led down to the parking lot.
“Freaking out?” he said. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“No, no,” I said. “Freaking out in a good way. A very good way. I promise.”
He lifted one eyebrow. God, how did he look so sexy even doing something as simple as lifting an eyebrow? I hated it. I loved it.
“You sure?” he asked me.
“Listen,” I said, “I was surprised you even looked my way when I walked up to the brewery. The fact that you’re coming home with me feels like winning the lottery. I just don’t want to fuck it all up before we even get there, like I seem to be way too good at doing.”
A gentle wind blew a lock of his hair to one side. He got a sympathetic look in his eyes, almost like he wanted to protect me somehow.