Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I return his greeting by pushing back against him and instantly feel how hard he is for me. We’ve been ships passing in the night for the past couple of days, with Kyler having hockey practice and working at the bar, and the withdrawal symptoms I’ve been experiencing have been ridiculous. I literally yearn for him when I’m not with him. Of course, it doesn’t help that we’re in this weird dating-not-dating scenario. We make out, and we hook-up, and it’s hot as fuck, but we’ve yet to have sex, and it’s driving me crazy. I know we’ve agreed to take it slow, but if we don’t take the next step soon, I’m going to combust spontaneously.
Leaving the bowl where it is, I turn around to steal a kiss because being this close in proximity and not kissing him should be a punishable offense. Is there such a thing as death by hotness? If not, there should be because when I finally look at Kyler, I feel like my heart is about to explode out of my chest. It doesn’t matter what he’s wearing; he just looks so damn good. Kyler dressed all in black when he’s working a shift at the bar—incredible. Kyler dressed in his hockey uniform—hot as fuck. But Kyler dressed as he is now, in gray sweatpants and a white short-sleeved tee—freaking sensational. He’s got that just woken up look going on, with his hair all mussed up, and honestly . . . I just want to jump his bones, right here, right now. God, what has happened to me? It’s like I’ve turned into this sex-starved vixen overnight. I can’t say I’m complaining.
“Hey, yourself.”
“Missed you,” he whispers against my lips. I return the sentiment by granting him entry, and his tongue instantly tangles with mine. What starts as a PG morning kiss soon turns into something far more R-rated. If we were alone, I’ve no doubt the batter would be on the floor right now, and I’d be sitting on the worktop in its place. That’s what it’s like with us. A small innocent peck on the cheek escalates at break-neck speed into something more because we want to make the most of our stolen moments together. Not going to lie, being on the down-low sucks.
Two short but loud claps sound, and we break apart suddenly. Being caught in a compromising position is not high on our to-do lists at the moment, and Kyler moves to the far end of the breakfast bar just as Nolan and Devon walk into the kitchen.
“House meeting!” Nolan announces loudly as Jude joins us. I notice my brother barely glances at either Kyler or me as he takes his seat at the table.
“Since when do we have house meetings this early in the morning?” I ask as I pick up the mixing bowl and whisk and start remixing the batter.
“Since we have very important matters to discuss,” Nolan replies, “and with that, this meeting is in session.”
“This is not a court hearing, dumbass!” Devon laughs and is met with Nolan’s glare.
“As I was saying . . .” Nolan pauses to clear his throat. “Kyler Anthony Rose—”
“Dude, what the fuck? That’s not even my middle name.”
“Can I please get through my speech without you idiots interrupting me?”
Jude and Devon laugh quietly into their hands, and I narrow my eyes at both of them because it dawns on me they’ve planned this house meeting together.
“Again, as I was saying, Kyler, what are your intentions with Thea?”
My jaw drops to the floor because what the heck? Judging by the look on Ky’s face, I’m not the only one taken by surprise, but then I notice the glance he and Jude exchange, and it’s clear something has happened between them that I’m not aware of.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Kyler answers carefully.
“Oh please, don’t think we haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking in smooching sessions when you think we’re not looking—”
“Did you seriously just say ‘smooching’?” Devon interrupts again, earning himself another glare from Nolan.
“All I’m saying is, I do not need to see a replay of what I saw in the laundry room last week.”
“Oh, Jesus,” my brother mutters under his breath, clearly uncomfortable by this conversation. I’m not surprised. If Nolan is referring to what I think he’s referring to, then he would have gotten eyeful in the laundry room and witnessed Kyler’s hand working its magic and making me come nine-ways to heaven while I was sitting on the washing machine and hand-fucking him shamelessly.
Running his hand through his hair, I can see Kyler is feeling both nervous and uneasy by this conversation and struggles to develop a response as he tries to explain the situation. But I’m tired of hiding, so I answer for him.
“I didn’t take you as someone who was into voyeurism, Nolan,” I tell him with a smirk, “but, if you’re asking if Kyler and I are seeing each other, then the answer is yes. We are.”