Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1174(@200wpm)___ 939(@250wpm)___ 783(@300wpm)
He looks like he expects to take me out, but he really should have texted me first instead of just showing up.
“Hey,” I say uncertainly, taking a step toward him. “What are you doing here?”
Before Hunter can say anything, Ray steals my attention, frowning as he glances from Hunter to me. “Uh… it seems like you’ve already met.”
I blink. “Um… yes. This is… This is my Hunter,” I say, since I’m not about to get into a label discussion right now.
Ray’s frown deepens. “Your Hunter?”
“He’s not her boyfriend like you’re not my boyfriend,” Mom explains.
I shoot Mom a quick glance before looking back at Ray. “Not exactly like that, but… yeah.” I look back at Hunter. “I can’t hang out tonight. We’re about to have a dinner with…” My words slow to a halt as it hits me.
Hunter smiles.
Ray sighs. “He’s the potential investor I was telling you about.”
“There it is,” Mom says flatly, shaking her head and looking over at me. “And, judging by the stunned look on your face, I can see you didn’t know anything about this.” She looks back at Hunter. “I think I would’ve preferred if you were a gangster.”
Hunter’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Well, you can’t win ’em all,” Mom says. “So, are you actually a potential investor, or is this some elaborate trick? I don’t really know how to proceed here.”
“I’m really a potential investor,” Hunter assures her.
“We were hoping you were British,” Mom tells him.
Hunter frowns. “What?”
“At least I can assure you he isn’t boring,” I tell her. “And you can make references he doesn’t understand—it won’t annoy him. I do it sometimes.” Despite reassuring my mom that everything is fine, I approach Hunter. Stopping in front of him, I demand, “What’s your game, Maxwell?”
His beautiful eyes glint with mischief. “Do I get a kiss hello?”
“No,” I say sweetly.
His smile only widens. “I think we should talk alone for a few minutes.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ray interrupts, looking to me for some sign of how to proceed. “What’s going on here, Riley?”
“This is the Scorpio,” I tell him, since that he’ll understand.
His expression clears, understanding dawning and shifting his vibe from businesslike, to… well, a different kind of businesslike. “Ah.”
“Wow, I’m known as ‘the Scorpio’ in this house? That sounds ominous,” Hunter remarks. “No wonder your mom doesn’t like me.”
“Yeah, that’s why,” I say dryly, but I don’t want anyone to mention any of the other reasons in front of Ray, so I move on quickly. “It’s your fault for sending that damn necklace.” I take his hand and start dragging him down the hall toward my bedroom. “We’ll be right back,” I tell Mom and Ray.
“The walls are thin,” Mom calls as a reminder, making me blush.
“Oh my God, we’re just going to talk,” I tell her.
“Are we?” Hunter whispers.
I shoot him a look over my shoulder as we walk. “We’re certainly not going to do anything else with my parents in the other room. You have a lot of explaining to do, mister.”
“Ray’s not your real dad, is he?” he asks, trying to piece together our odd family portrait. “His name’s not on your birth certificate.”
I stop walking outside my bedroom door and stare at him. “You’ve seen my birth certificate?”
Hunter pauses for a suspicious length of time, then says, “No?”
“My God, you are such a stalker.” I push open my bedroom door and he follows me in.
“I wasn’t trying to be, I was just trying to figure out how permanent a fixture this guy was before I approached him about investing in the gym. It would only accomplish what I needed it to if you and your mom had strong ties to him.”
I close my bedroom door and turn around. Given the clear calculation in what he just said, I prop a hand on my hip and look at him expectantly. “And what, exactly, were you trying to accomplish?”
Instead of answering, Hunter closes the short distance between us. Once he’s near enough, he drags my hand off my hip and slides both of my arms around his torso.
With a faint sigh, I let him distract me for just a moment. I wrap my arms around him for a hug and let him pull me into his strong arms.
“I like this dress you’re wearing tonight,” he tells me.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” He kisses the side of my head, one of his hands dropping to the small of my back. “White lace. So innocent.” His hand slides lower, grazing the curve of my ass right before he cups it and squeezes. “Are you wearing panties like a good girl, or are you feeling a little naughty tonight? If I reach under this pretty lace dress, will I have access to your bare pussy, or is there something in my way?”
A breath rushes out of me. Between his words and his touch, heat begins to spread through my veins. I certainly don’t feel innocent.