Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Exhausted, in the very best way,” she admitted, and blushed as she recalled the many times and many different ways Derek had fucked her. “And sore in all the right places.”
He chuckled, the sound low and sexy. “Then I did my job well. That should teach you to question a man’s stamina. Especially mine.”
His playful demeanor made her smile. “Duly noted.”
He moved away to pop two bagels into the toaster and then melt a pat of butter in a frying pan on the stove. “Finish making your coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
She wanted to say she could get used to this kind of routine—being spoiled and greeted in the morning with soft kisses and touches—but that implied more than one night together, and she knew better than to make any assumptions. Last night had been beyond fantastic, but it didn’t equate to a relationship or commitment of any sort.
She stirred cream and sugar into her coffee, then leaned against the counter and took a sip of the caffeinated brew. “How long have you been awake?” she asked, noting it was after nine in the morning.
“A while,” he said, pouring the eggs into the pan to start the first omelet, and while the mixture set up, he glanced her way. “I went out for a jog and finished up a few final things on your to-do list, so those items are pretty much done. By the way, I love your neighborhood. It’s so quiet and friendly and quaint.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I love it here. New York City is full of life and excitement twenty-four seven, but there’s something to be said for living somewhere simple and peaceful.” She took another drink of her coffee. “At the end of the day, after working in the city at Curvy Girl, this is where I want to be. Someplace where I can relax and unwind and not hear fire engines at all hours of the day and night. Or be able to go out to eat at a family-owned restaurant that doesn’t take months to get a reservation.”
He laughed as he filled the omelet with veggies, meat, and cheese, then flipped it in half like he’d made a hundred of them before. “I can definitely see why you find it all so appealing.”
She tipped her head curiously. “Have you ever thought about moving out of the city?”
He shook his head and plated the first omelet, then started on a second one. “No. I never had any reason to. And I just bought a new penthouse that’s close to the office. Within walking distance, actually, so I’m not sure it would make sense to buy a place in the suburbs. At least, not until I get married and have a family. I definitely want my kids to grow up in a house instead of being cooped up in an apartment, so they have a yard and can play outdoors with their friends or ride their bikes to the park.”
Jessica couldn’t ignore the pang of melancholy she felt as he talked about marriage and having a family and kids. The one area in which she would always feel inadequate because she had no idea what the future held for her or what her body was capable of in terms of having children. But this conversation wasn’t about them, and so she could only listen to how Derek envisioned his own future to be—without her.
They ate breakfast, and when they were through and Derek insisted on cleaning up the kitchen one last time, Jessica went back upstairs to change into a blouse and a pair of jean capris for the day. After brushing out her hair and applying a light amount of makeup, she left her room, hearing the water running in the guest bathroom across the hall.
Her body warmed all over as she envisioned Derek taking a shower and wondered what would happen if she made the spontaneous, and bold, decision to join him. She debated, but in the end, she didn’t follow through with the idea. With last night over, in the light of day, she didn’t want to be presumptuous about anything when it came to the two of them.
So, she went downstairs to her office and pulled up the illustrator program on her laptop computer. She scanned in the drawing she’d sketched Friday night so that she could put the finishing touches on the design and then move on to the pattern process before she selected fabrics for manufacturing.
A short while later, Derek came into the room, his hair damp, his face freshly shaven, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He set the duffle bag he’d packed and brought for the weekend onto the floor, then strolled over to the drafting table where she was working.