Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“For the record, for as long as you’re wearing that top, you’re going to win every game we play.” I stand and grab our wineglasses from the coffee table.
She glances down at herself and then back at me. “Oh yeah?”
I place the glasses down by the board, cup her face in my hands, sweep my thumb over her lips and close my eyes, trying to summon every ounce of strength I have not to kiss her into next week. I press my lips to her forehead and release her.
“Right. Time for me to lose.”
She laughs. “Well it’s no fun if you give up before we’ve begun.”
“It’s all the fun. I get to sit here and look at you and try to make you laugh.”
After enjoying her beating me at Cluedo, we set out the Twister mat.
“Were you saving the best ’til last with this?” she asks. “If you can turn Operation into… Well, god only knows how you play Twister.”
“Worried you’re going to lose?” I ask.
She gives a small shake of her head.
I hand her the dial and turn so I’m facing her. “You’re worried about my thigh between your legs, my mouth at your neck?” I lean into her and whisper in her ear. “You’re worried you’re going to start begging me to touch you, just like I know you will.”
I circle my hands around her waist and she gasps.
“I don’t need a game as an excuse to touch you, Vivian.” I press a kiss under her ear and slide my hands up, up, up, until my thumbs skirt the outline of her breasts. “I don’t need a game to get close to you.” I slide my lips against hers—lightly, in a half-kiss.
I’m close enough to hear her breath falter and feel her body sag against mine. It feels like a victory. I know she’s nursing a broken heart—but Matt was dick and she needs to get over him, and I’m more than happy to be the rebound guy. Maybe a rebound is exactly what I need, too.
“I don’t need a game to talk dirty to you and get you wet.”
“Beau,” she whispers.
“You’re not used to it.” I can tell by the heat in her cheeks that the idiot who let her go never realized how much she likes dirty talk. “But you like it. You like things to get a little dirty.” She twists under my hands. I’m not sure if she does it on purpose, but she shifts against my cock, which twitches even with the slightest bit of attention from her.
I reach up and cup her face again, and I stare into her eyes. I see conflict and excitement, but I also see fear.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I say. “Okay?”
She nods and I press my lips against hers once, then again and deeper. I sink into her pillowy softness and slide my tongue between her lips. It’s a promise of more.
But not now.
I pull back and she opens her eyes.
“You’re beautiful, and I want to do that again. And again. So, I’m going to go,” I say.
A vertical line appears just above the bridge of her nose. “Go?”
I press a kiss to her forehead. “I like you. I know neither of us is looking for anything serious. I think we both need to take a beat before we decide if this,” I gesture between us, “can or should include…sex.”
I don’t exactly enjoy the disappointment in her eyes, but I’m not sad about it. Something’s shifted. There was a clear line between us when the evening started out and I can barely see it now.
“If I don’t step away, things are going to get blurry,” I say. “No, they’re already blurry. I just think we both need to think about whether this is a good idea.” I pull her toward me, our gazes locked. “Sleep well.” I press my lips against hers and pull away.
When I get to the door, I turn for one last look. Maybe I’m an idiot leaving like this, but she’s been hurt badly. And if there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s make her heartbreak worse.
EIGHTEEN
Vivian
I barely slept. When the alarm goes off at seven, I’m sorely tempted to cancel it, roll over, and try to get some sleep.
But there’s too much going on in my brain.
I can’t stop thinking about Beau.
There’s all the good stuff: The way he manages to make a pair of jeans look like the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The way he smells like grass after a thunderstorm. Our kiss. His dirty mouth.
And then there’s the bad: The way I’ve checked TMZ three thousand times since he left to see if he’s said anything to anyone. The weird conversation we had about his financial status. He was pretty convincing when he said he didn’t have to worry about money—but why? Because he was lying, or because he was telling the truth? Everything he says and does seems to match up, and if I was still the person I was before I found out my fiancé was selling my secrets to the press, I wouldn’t be questioning everything. But then again, I wouldn’t be playing Operation with Beau had I still been with Matt.