Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
The feelings inside me are as big and tall as he is, so my tiny voice kind of surprises me. It’s music to James’ ears, and he grins wide, squeezing my hand.
“I kinda hoped you’d say that.” He smiles, pointing out his car with a jut of his chin, making my eyes go wide.
The suit. The watch. The car.
Guy’s not faking it, and anyone who has that much debt could never be as laid back as he is.
Now he knows he’s got what he wants.
“What is it you actually do again?” I ask, trying not to swoon as he holds the passenger door open, helping me into the car like I’m some kind of princess, and he’s my Prince Charming.
As if the car and everything else I’m about to experience are all for me.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that smile on your face,” he says knowingly, leaning over to buckle me in and pecking my lips, making me sigh.
I leave the smart-ass sarcasm and feisty, independent girl feeling well behind once the powerful sports car rumbles out into traffic.
The puddle of mush between my legs is already convulsing in time with the motor before we’ve gotten three blocks. I know coffee is the last thing on his mind, and the only thing I feel like seeing him eat is a part of myself I haven’t had a decent look at for a long time.
The thrill I feel inside wavers as I wonder why a real man would want to take me straight home, which should be a red flag, but not with James.
Because really, I know deep down it’s not just what I want to do. It’s what I need more than anything right now. It’s something I’ve never done, yet I fantasized about it. Being a virgin sometimes has its drawbacks, but if you wait for the right someone, it has to be worth it. Right?
I think James Jones, whatever he does, is just the man to do it.
He takes a turn that leads to a side of town I’ve only ever heard about and never seen. James is quick to remind me of one thing, reading my mind before I even finish the thought.
“And no,” he says, “I’m not in the habit of bringing beautiful, young women home.”
I feel my face redden again. Nobody’s ever referred to me like that.
“I’ve never gone home with anyone…,” I start to say, wanting to tell him something else I’ve never done before, either. From the grin he’s been wearing since he kissed me, I think he’s figured out a lot more about me than I have about him so far.
The rain’s done a good job of cleaning the city streets. Or does everything just look brighter because I’m with James now? It’s as if I am wearing glasses that make everything look brand new, like me and James. I’m not sure, but the older buildings and pot-holed streets give way to a more modern, sleek, and shining part of town where the buildings are as tall as he is.
There’s no real small talk between us, and I don’t feel the need to fill the silence. It’s as if we’ve known each other for years, though it’s been what? Less than a day?
Both of us know that although there’s plenty to be said, there’s plenty to be done. By that, I mean James has more than just kisses in mind when it comes to what happens next. That thought makes me gulp, shiver, and want to squeal all at once.
I don’t know how he can act so calmly and in control, navigating the streets and traffic as though he designed them himself. It feels and looks like James Jones is a man of the world, and this whole world, including me, is all for him.
“This is us,” he murmurs, looking the closest to shy I think I’m ever going to see.
I get it, though, once he pulls in and swipes a security pass to enter the underground garage. The way I don’t want him to see my dirty dishes and piles of clothes, I’m guessing he has his own version of that like every guy must.
Right?
If the outside of the steel and glass towering building is anything to go by, I don’t think so. Probably more of a case of James not wanting to look like something from another planet living in a place like this.
It makes the five-star hotels downtown look cheap. Put it that way. Even the air in the underground car park smells clean.
Pulling up right out front of a steel-doored elevator, I shoot him a questioning glance, but he only shrugs.
“Let me guess,” I almost groan, not meaning to sound sarcastic. “Private elevator?”
James chuckles, “Yup, and I can park right out front of it all day if I want,” he informs me, still smiling, but the other look is creeping back in.