Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Remy
Sleep sticks to my eyes as I force them to focus on the blur of Maria as she runs back and forth from one side of the room to the other, shouting expletives as if it’s her main goal in life to use every single one of them.
It’d be cute, honestly, on any other day, but after the way last night ended, I’m not sure this is the best sign.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, jumping from the bed and hurrying after her. She doesn’t answer, instead turning on her heel again and changing directions with a very random sock in her hand.
“Ria. Hey, what’s going on?” I plead again as she zooms by, the wind from her speed creating a breeze against my face.
“My assistant is a curdled cheese bag!” she shouts nonsensically, and my eyebrows pull together.
“Your assistant is…a what now?”
“She’s an idiot!” she clarifies, whizzing past me yet again. “And so am I for not firing her before now!”
“Okay, Ri. Relax. What’s going on? How can I help?”
“Unless you’re an expert in time travel, you can’t! I have to be at a showing in Midtown in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes!” she shouts with a hysterical cackle. “Superman himself could swoop down and pick me up, and I’m still never going to make it there in time.”
She takes off, and I head back to the side of the bed to slide my boxer briefs on. Something about chasing her around the room with my dick flopping every which way seems less than ideal. I’ll run a lot faster if it’s not dragging the ground, you know. Or something like that.
Maria’s the roadrunner, and I’m the coyote, only my plans for when I catch her don’t involve any sort of anvils.
She scoots from the closet to the bathroom, and the sink runs and quits almost manically as she brushes her teeth. I listen for a sign that she’s reaching the end of her truncated getting-ready routine, and I finally get it when she flips off the lights of the bathroom and heads for the hallway at a run.
I grab her by the hand as she passes, pulling her to a gentle stop and spinning her to face me. She’s already shaking her head, convinced she doesn’t have enough time for even a simple exchange, but I know better.
This may be about a scheduled appointment, but it’s also a convenient excuse to avoid what happened last night. To shelve any embarrassment and uncertainty right next to the insecurities that’ll allow them to fester. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
“Remy, I’m late. I have to get Izzy and get to Midtown and—”
I pull her hand with a jerk, forcing her body into mine on a fall. She gasps at the unexpected change of direction, and I don’t waste an opportunity with her open mouth. Soft and slow and sweet, I press my lips to hers, winding my tongue around the tip of hers and sinking my hands into the soft tresses of her hair. She feels so fucking good, so fucking memorable, I really have to challenge my self-control.
You cannot take her back to bed right now, you cannot take her back to bed right now.
I can feel her eyelashes flutter against mine in a soft whisper of surrender, and I deepen the kiss to ensure the enemy of doubt falls completely.
Her hands clasp at the flesh at my hips, the tips of her fingernails biting deliciously.
When I eventually pull away, her eyes are much, much lazier, and her heart is cracked back open. I slide right inside as quickly as I can.
“I’ll get Izzy from Winnie. You go to your appointment, do what you have to do, and we’ll meet up again when you’re done for the day.”
“What? No? Surely you have something to do? You know, for yourself, I mean.”
“It’s Saturday, babe. Markets are closed.” I smile and shake my head. “And there’s nothing better than spending the day with Iz while you get your shit done.”
She wants to give in, but she can’t do it just yet. “Are you sure?”
I, on the other hand, have no problem helping her get there. I place a smacking kiss to her lips. “Positive.”
“Okay…but only, if you’re, like, sure, sure,” she says then, a loaded meaning slithering under the innocent surface.
“I’m sure,” I affirm, hoping she can feel the unspoken words of my answer too.
I’ve made a lot of questionable decisions in my forty-four years on this earth, but making love to Maria last night and, even more than that, inserting myself into her and Izzy’s lives like I have sure as fuck isn’t one of them.
Hell, call me a selfish bastard, but I still don’t even regret waking her up at three a.m. because I couldn’t not be inside her again.
“Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll meet you, okay?”