Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
I plaster a smile on my face and I fight to keep my voice steady, to be as smooth as he is. “He’s a gem, isn’t he?”
Dallas kisses my temple. It’s tender, and so unexpectedly sweet. “I’m the lucky one here. She puts up with a lot of crap from me, and she knows exactly how to keep me in line. Wilhelmina is the real keeper.”
That I’m beginning to crave this kind of casual affection scares the hell out of me. I tip my head up, intent on communicating through my eyes that he’s pouring it on a little thick. But I’m shocked by the look on his face. If I didn’t know better, if this wasn’t all a performance and he wasn’t just practicing here to get back at the assholes we grew up with, I’d think he meant what he said.
“Kiss her!” one of the men calls out.
Everyone around us has stopped to listen to the story—even Hammer and Hollis, who are sitting at the table kitty-corner to us. Both wear soft smiles. Hollis’s arm is draped across the back of her chair, and he drags a single finger up and down the nape of her neck.
Not for the first time, I’m hit with a wave of sadness. Hammer’s one of my close friends, and here I am, lying to her face every day. And how convincing must we be that she buys it? What will they all think when they learn the truth? How hard will it be when it all comes crashing down? When they learn that this was all a ruse because Dallas got drunk one night and I refused to go to my high school reunion alone? That I let the boy who teased me relentlessly as a kid be my date to avoid risking both our jobs?
“No pudding for you unless you kiss! And it’s chocolate marshmallow fudge, which is your favorite,” Irina threatens.
She’s not wrong. The pudding here is good.
Everyone around us joins the chant, calling out kiss, kiss, kiss.
“And make it a good one!” Irina orders.
The flutter of anticipation in my stomach is unnerving. As is the way Dallas’s eyes heat as he turns to face me. His fingers drift from the edge of my jaw to my chin. I swallow the lump made of desire and anxiety as he tips my head up and leans down. At first, it’s the softest brush of warm velvet. But it sparks need, stoking the coals and turning them into fire.
Even in a room full of old people, I want more of his mouth on mine. Of his hands on my skin. Of him showing up at my door, asking to take care of me. No matter how things seem right now, I know better than to wish for something real with Dallas Bright.
He cups my face in his hands, warm, rough fingers pressing into the hinge of my jaw. He angles his head so he can deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against mine. I grip his wrist, nails digging into the skin.
He groans low in his throat, and his tongue sweeps my mouth. Owning me. Possessing me. I want to climb into his lap and feel all the hard lines of his body against me.
But instead, he pulls back, and the spell breaks as the room bursts into a round of exuberant applause.
I turn away from Dallas, unable to handle the fire in his gaze. This chemistry between us is seriously inconvenient.
I blush and laugh, and roll my eyes when I’m offered not one, but two servings of pudding. But inside, I’m all over the place. My heart is racing, my hands are clammy, and my lips are tingling. It’s discombobulating.
I’m starting to believe in those kisses, in the soft ways he shows up for me. And that’s dangerous and stupid. The last thing I want is to turn back into the girl he fucked over all those years ago.
The only way I’ll survive this is to throw my walls up and stay strong. No more flirting. No more kissing. No more weakness.
CHAPTER 21
DALLAS
“You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Just ask. It’s one question.” I’vegiven myself the pep talk a dozen times in the last fifteen minutes. I don’t know why I can show up at Willy’s house and ask her to sit on my face, but this situation makes me anxious. Regardless, it’s time to take action.
I pry my hands from the edge of the sink, mentally berating my boner, who is slow to get a clue. Eventually he’s calmed down enough that I can leave the privacy of the bathroom. I walk down the hall of the Terror main offices, taking a deep breath as I approach Wills’s lair.
I hear her before I see her. Actually, I hear her fingers click, click, clicking away on the keyboard. She’s an exceptionally fast typist. I don’t knock at first. Instead, I peek around the jamb, so I can gauge her mood. If I catch her at the wrong time, she’ll say no, and I need her to say yes. Though I already know she won’t be happy about it.