Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
christopher
All I can do is look at this woman in front of me. This strong, independent, classy woman. The nerves that were all in my stomach bringing her here have turned into bile, listening to her tell me her story. My hands clench into fists with each word that comes out. “So before this goes forward, you have to make a decision. Will you ever be okay knowing I was Benji’s once?” I start to open my mouth, not sure what I’m going to say, but wanting to say at least something. “You don’t have to decide now. For tonight, I want to sit down at a table with a hot man who thinks I’m just as hot as him. I want to drink wine and see if I can still flirt.” All I can do is smirk at her. “If you give me anything, at least give me tonight.”
“Are you done?” I finally ask when she reaches over to grab her glass of wine and bring it to her lips.
“Yes.” She nods, smirking back at me. “For now, I think.”
“Good.” I tap the table with my finger. “Before I say anything else, it needs to be said that you are way hotter than me tonight and every other day.” She rolls her eyes at that. “With that said, I also have to tell you I had no idea what Benji was up to with the women.” I shake my head. “Never, and I mean never, would I have been okay with that.”
“I kind of figured that,” she says softly. “Again, it wasn’t your place to do anything about it. He did that. I mean, in the last couple of months, he didn’t really try to hide it from me. Some nights, he didn’t even come home until six o’clock in the morning.”
I hold my hand up. “You are going to need to stop talking because, at this very minute, I’m wishing I could drag him back up and beat the ever-loving shit out of him.” I swallow back the anger. “You said that I have to make a decision, and you’re right.” Her eyes just watch me, and all I want is to lean over and kiss her, except I’m not sure if I should. I’m not sure she wants me to. “But with that said, you also have to decide what you want in all this. You kept saying I had to make a decision, and you are wholeheartedly right, I do. You have a say in this also, so what do you want?” I move my hand on the table to put it on hers. “You don’t have to decide now. For tonight, I want to sit down at a table with the woman who drives me crazy. With the woman who, with just one look, gets me so hot and bothered I don’t even know what is going on around us.” I wink at her. “For tonight, it’s just you and me. Good food, with great fucking company.” She smiles bigger. “Also, you’re not taking off that jacket because I swear to God I’ve already been at half-mast since you opened the door, and it’s about to go from fifty to a hundred.” She puts her head back and giggles, making my cock immediately go to one hundred and fifty. “Well, it’s at a hundred.” I lean over and kiss her neck. “I like you wearing your hair like that.”
“Yeah?” she asks as she moves her hand from under mine, to put it on top. “Why is that?”
“Easy access to this part.” I move my hand from the table to touch the back of her ear, and she shivers under my touch. “Then it leads to this.” I move my finger down her neck to underneath her jaw. “Then right about here, where I can feel how your heart beats for me.”
“I know you said you were at half-mast before.” She looks around, speaking softly, “I’d like to let you know, even if I wanted to, I can’t take off my jacket because my nipples have been hard since the minute you touched my hand.” She leans into me, and my body moves to her. “And I can tell you right now,” she whispers in my ear, “I’m wet for you.” She kisses behind my ear, and now it’s my turn to shiver. “I guess you can say I’m at a hundred.”
“I was a hundred the minute you laughed,” I admit, and her eyes get hazy with lust.
She’s about to say something when the phone rings from her purse. She reaches out to grab the handbag and unzip it. “It’s my mother.” She looks at me. “She has the kids.”
“Answer it,” I tell her, wondering if the girls are okay.
“Hey, is everything okay?” she says, and I can see the worry on her face, “Saturday morning, why?” she questions her mother, and then she laughs. “I was hoping she wouldn’t remember. It’s all good. Text me once you guys head out.” She says goodbye and hangs up.