Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Me: You mean that?
I look at her face, to the bitten-back smirk threatening to cross it.
Oh, you think this is funny, do you?
Davis lifts her chin a bit, and I know before it comes through the answer is yes.
Davis: Yes, but I want it to be you.
“Fuck.” My eyes clench closed, a harsh breath pushing past my nostrils.
Didn’t expect the second half of that.
Fuck, fuck.
In the next instant, my phone is ringing, and it’s her name flashing across the screen. My attention flies to the live video feed, and I frown when it’s only Drew in view.
I don’t answer but pull my shoes on and grab my keys. Sending her one more message on my way out the door, I turn off my phone, leaving her to decipher its meaning.
Me: I’m coming over.
Chapter Six
Davis
I’ve been pacing my kitchen for ten minutes now.
Crew said he was coming over, so I yanked Drew out of the bar and had him drive me home since he insisted on picking me up, but I walked in fifteen minutes ago, and still no sign of Crew.
He should be here by now.
His apartment isn’t that far from mine, so if he left right when he said he would, then he should have knocked no less than—
I jump as my doorbell sings to me; it doesn’t even get to the final note before I’m yanking the door from its frame.
Crew stands there, dominating the small space so much more than I remember. I swear he’s even taller than he was last time he stood on my front porch.
Twenty-five looks good on him.
So did the other twenty-four.
“Um… hi.” I swallow.
Crew raises a brow. “Is your doorbell the theme song to Victorious?”
“My dad still thinks I’m twelve… so.”
He nods, a frown falling over his face, but he makes no move to enter my apartment, so I grip him by the hem of his shirt, pull him inside, and lock the door behind us.
Three or four steadying breaths later, I turn to find him watching me, clear intent calling on the darker shades of his eyes.
Several beats of silence pass and then he blinks.
“Ready?” Crew peels his jacket off, and honestly, he should charge for that.
It’s quite intoxicating, as is the way he runs a hand through his unruly hair. The way he shifts. Breathes.
Exists.
Wait. Did he say…
“Ready?” I ask.
Crew doesn’t respond. He stares.
One at a time, he yanks his shoes off his feet, dropping them to the linoleum with a thud. “Should I take you on the couch, or is your roommate home?”
“Oh.” My muscles freeze, but my core, it heats. Boils. “Um.”
Crew undoes his belt, his eyes sharp and steady, determined. He tears the thick piece of leather from its loops and sets it on the kitchen table with a loud cling, cling, clack.
My core clenches, a tickle zipping up my spine.
“Are you going to use that?” I wonder.
Long, strong fingers clamp around my wrist and my eyes fly to the contact, to the space between our bodies. To where my hand decided to reach for the opening of his jeans without permission.
His fingers flex against me and my gaze snaps to his.
Crew scowls and gives a subconscious shake of his head, and then those hazel eyes widen with surprise.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles, but I’m pretty sure he’s speaking to himself.
The realization on his face activates my own, and for once, I’m the one to frown first.
“You have no intention of dicking me down tonight.”
Crew flies back, putting no less than ten feet between us, and when he faces me again, a furious fire stares back. “No. I don’t.”
“You were testing me.”
“Not testing.”
“Assessing. Studying. Hypothesizing. Call it as you please. You wanted to see if I’d go through with this.”
He runs his tongue along his lower lip, eyes narrowing. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Did you miss the part where I basically begged you to let me pimp you out to myself?”
The vein in his neck pulses, and he shakes his head. “It’s not going to happen, Baby Franco.”
“Why not? It’s a fantastic deal! You get a truck, something you can keep for a lifetime in exchange for five minutes of your time.”
He scoffs. “Five minutes is pathetic.”
“Good to know. I’ll make sure to mention that to whoever signs on the dotted line.”
“Swear to God, girl.”
“There’s a church around the corner for that.” I blindly reach for the handle behind me, tugging the door open.
He widens his stance, his jaw flexing. “If I didn’t call you tonight, would you have begged Drew to fuck you?”
“How did you know I was with Drew?”
“Answer the question, Davis.”
“You’re being annoying,” I tell him, but when he doesn’t so much as blink, I answer his stupid question. “I had no plans to screw your brother tonight, no, but I hear it happens naturally sometimes.”