Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Determination and courage. Beauty, even where it’s not expected. Wonder. Possibility.”
“That’s what I see when I look at you.”
How does this end with someone who thinks that about me?
TWENTY
Ashley
“I’m glad the sun decided to come back out,” I say, stretching my toes behind me. “It’s nice to have our farewell evening out here by the pool.”
Maddox looks over from his lounge chair and makes a show out of checking me out. I pop my ass in the air a little, arching my back as I lie on my belly, to give him a taste of his own medicine.
He’s wearing his board shorts from the boat today and no shirt. He couldn’t be more edible if he tried.
“What are ya reading over there?” he asks, his eyes still glued to my bottom.
“It’s called Sway.”
He hums. “Who is your favorite character?”
“That’s a hard question. It’s about this politician named Barrett but his brother, Lincoln, is sort of stealing the show.”
“Little brothers are fuckers.”
I laugh. “Are you getting Banks flashbacks?”
He rolls his eyes. “What chapter are you on?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I flip to the start of the chapter. “Seventeen.”
His eyes darken. “Keep going. Eighteen is a good one.”
I press up on my elbows and look at him curiously. He smirks and goes back to his phone.
“What’s that mean? How do you know?” I ask.
“Sleeping Beauty slept in yesterday, and I had to get out of bed so I didn’t disturb her. I might’ve seen the book on the coffee table, and I might’ve picked it up.”
What? Okay … “Did you enjoy it?”
“It wasn’t awful. I respected Barrett’s game, you know, chasing the girl. I feel a little kindred spirit to the man.” He winks. “Your boy Lincoln needs to stay in his lane.”
I burst out laughing.
“Just get to eighteen and let’s revisit this conversation,” he says.
What is he talking about?
“Fuck it.” He gets up and walks to me. “Stay there.”
I lay flat on my stomach again, dropping my book to the ground. Maddox sets his phone beside it.
“I just put that on when I came out here,” I say, noticing the sunscreen in his hand.
“Not on your back.”
“No, you put it on my back.”
He undoes my bikini top and then squirts sunscreen in his hand. He straddles the back of the chair.
“And then you started talking about chapter eighteen—or I did, whatever—and now I just need to touch you.”
“Oh,” I say, sighing as his hands slide down my back. “I think I like you reading romance novels. I might get you a subscription to a book box.”
His phone rings, but he ignores it. “What’s in a book box?”
“Books.”
“No shit?”
I giggle. “Paperbacks, free eBooks, swaggy items like pens or stickers or magnets. Cup koozies. That kind of thing. Or you can get some that send shirts or mugs. There’s even one that donates their proceeds to charity.”
“Buy me that one.” He cups my shoulders and brings his thumbs to the back of my neck. “I’ll bring the books to your house, and you can read them to me.”
I moan as he massages the spot just under the base of my skull that perpetually aches. “Can’t you read? And why can’t we go to your house? I don’t have a house, remember?”
“Yes, I can read, but I anticipate I’ll be busy doing other things while you read. And we can’t go to my house because Banks will be there.”
I giggle. “Can’t you make him go home?”
“Yeah. Sure, I can. But I don’t trust him not to peek in the windows if he knows you’re there and naked. Then I’d have to kill him.”
He rubs down my back, around my side so he can palm my breasts, then down to my ass. A fire I’ve grown very familiar with over the past few days burns hot in my stomach.
“I didn’t say I’d be naked at your house,” I say. “I’d be there to read to you.”
“Oh, like you’re going to be at my house and make it longer than ten minutes with clothes on. Right.”
Does this mean he thinks he might see me when we get home? Hope blossoms in my chest.
“I might just choose erotica then,” I say, lifting my hips as he removes my bottoms. “Who needs a plot?”
His phone rings again. And again, he ignores it.
He squeezes my ass cheeks, taking his sweet time. Each flex of his palms, every press of his fingers increases the ache between my legs.
“What kind of erotica do you read?” he asks, his voice lower. “Are there types of it?”
“If I’m going for erotica, it better be taboo and right to the point. Give me a little choking or breeding—”
“What?”
I laugh. “It’s what it sounds like. The point is for her to get pregnant.”
“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Not sure that’s my thing.”
“Maybe harem is good for you? One guy and a lot of girls?”