Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I glance over at Blaze, my eyes wide.
He throws me a look then gapes at Dr. Cartwright. “Uh, well, sir, it’s rather private, this one. I don’t mind if you read it for your study since that’s anonymous, but…”
“I see.” The professor arches his eyebrow and looks from Blaze to me. The man has to know we’re writing notes to each other half the time. We’re on the front freaking row.
Dillon glances at us, probably sees my wide eyes, and clears his throat. “Uh, I have a good one.”
“Indeed, Mr. McQueen? Please do share.”
“I wrote I’m hot.” He grins. “I don’t mean the temperature in the room,” he adds. “It’s just me. I’m sexy like that.” He raises his hands for support. “Am I right?”
Whistles come from throughout the class.
“How insightful,” Dr. Cartwright murmurs, a smile on his face. “Thank you.” He comes back to Blaze. “I’d still love to hear yours. You looked so…absorbed in thought when you wrote it.”
The man is messing with us.
Blaze taps his pen on his desk, gives me a look, and takes a breath.
“I said, Tie me to the bed.”
He kept as close to the truth as he could, and it feels like every single student turns to stare at him. I tuck my head in.
Dr. Cartwright’s eyes gleam. “How surprising that a strapping football player might enjoy a little rope play and being a submissive. Fascinating. Good for you for admitting your proclivities, Mr. Townsend.”
“Yes, sir. Proclivities are on my mind constantly.”
Good Lord. He’s too much.
Too far, rein it in, my gaze tells him.
He gives me a grin.
* * *
Later that night, we’re lying on the couch at the house as we watch Downton Abbey, my pick. He’s lying behind me, one arm around me, a hand playing with my hair. Penelope and Ryker are at the library studying. The credits roll on the show and I turn to face him. There’s a little pucker on his forehead, and I smooth it with my hand.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” I touch his cheek, reading him. “Those NFL scouts and agents will be pissing in their fancy suits when they see you run at the Combine.”
“Yeah?” He gets a hesitant look on his face.
“Of course.”
He stares down at me, thinking. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I’m in this thing we have.”
In this thing.
I ease away and clean up our dishes from dinner on the coffee table. We ended up ordering a pizza since his workout went long.
He sits up, reaches out, and grabs my free hand, lacing our fingers together. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m good. Just want to clean this up before Penelope gets back.”
I move to pull away, but he won’t let me go, standing and tugging me to him. His eyes are worried as he gives me a kiss, soft and slow. “Hey, I know we aren’t just about me and my stuff.” He pushes hair out of my face. “I’m happy about Nashville, happy for you.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you excited about it?”
I nod. “Of course. It’s a cool town.”
I haven’t wanted to bring it up much. When I told him last week, he listened intently, his face unreadable. We even celebrated by going to Cadillac’s with Ryker, Penelope, Dillon, Margo, and Connor. It was a fun, laidback night, but I caught him staring at me when I was talking to the girls about driving up in a few weeks to find an apartment. His eyes were filled with disquiet, his expression drawn.
Is he worried about a long-distance relationship? Maybe. I am.
I keep picturing him in another town…away from me…with “fans”.
He watches me now, his eyes bright. His chest rises. “Charm?”
“Yeah.” My hand holding the paper plates shakes a little. The air feels charged, as if he…
He sticks his hand in his pocket, and I wonder if he’s touching that note. “I know things are up in the air, but we’ll make a plan after I’m drafted. I don’t know where I’ll be, or if I’ll even get selected.”
“You will.”
He looks at the floor then back at me. “I’ve never had someone like you.” His throat bobs and his eyes search mine. “You know…you know how I feel about you, right? You’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep, the first thing I want when I wake up.”
I set down the plates, slide into his embrace, and put my arms around his neck. “It’s going to work out, all of it.”
He kisses me, and it’s hard and sweeping, part need and part frustration, both of us anxious, wondering what the coming weeks will hold. I get lost there, in his mouth, like I always do. I don’t know how I ever waited so long to have this intimacy with him, to share it with the man I love. His tongue sucks on mine, making me moan, and he gives me more, his hands already in my hair and pulling out my ponytail and palming my scalp, getting me as close to him as he can.