Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
A few of Oliver's friends.
A few cute women he and Holden invited.
My brother is talking to one of them. She's pretty. Short and curvy with bright pink hair and all black attire. I'd say she's his type, but he doesn't have one.
He sleeps with everything that moves.
Not that Holden is the picture of chastity.
More that—
Uh—
He's looking at me. Holden. His gorgeous grey-green eyes are fixed on me. The flecks of grey are glowing in the moonlight.
He's so beautiful. And handsome. And hot.
Attractive in every way a guy can be attractive.
"I guess you have a few minutes." Holden chuckles. "Oliver isn't going to go home with her tonight."
I shake my head. "Dad's here."
His eyes dart around the party.
"Upstairs. In his office. Just in case."
"In case?" Holden raises a brow. "What do you have planned, Daisy?"
"Nothing." My cheeks flush. "I'm—"
"You look sweet and innocent, but I know the truth." His smile widens. "You've got a troublemaker underneath the pretty pink dress."
My pulse races. "You think so?"
"I know so."
"I…"
"You…"
"It's my birthday." I just have to say it. It's the only way.
"It is."
"So you owe me a birthday wish."
"Do I?"
I nod. Take a deep breath. Exhale my nerves. This is no big deal. I'm flirting. Sure, Holden is three years older than I am, an adult with a job, an adult who is best friends with my brother, but, uh—
It's just flirting.
That's all.
No.
Big.
Deal.
"A birthday kiss." I swallow hard. "Just one."
"Daisy—"
"Don't say that I'm too young."
"Wasn't gonna say that."
"Oh."
His gaze shifts to the party—to Oliver—then it's back on me. "Usually, women ask for a birthday fuck."
My blush spreads to my chest.
"I guess you knew I'd say no."
"I, uh—"
He chuckles. "Is that really what you want?"
"To have sex with you?"
"No." His laugh is light. Easy. "A kiss?"
I nod.
"You could have anything. A free tattoo. A bottle of vodka. A wingman to find you a date for prom."
"Prom isn't until May."
He raises a brow.
I suck a breath through my teeth. "School hasn't even started."
"You want the best, you need to start early."
"You don't think I can find my own prom date?"
His eyes sparkle. Actually sparkle. "You're a beautiful girl. You're not going to have trouble."
My tongue slides over my lips. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"You know you're beautiful."
My stomach flutters. He's so smooth and sweet and suave and—
Oh my God. He's trying to let me down gently.
In his way.
He doesn't want to kiss me.
Because I'm a kid. Or because I'm his friend's sister. Or because I'm a certifiable mess.
No. He doesn't know that.
Oliver wouldn't.
Would he?
"Daisy?" He wraps his fingers around my wrist. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just—"
"How many have you had?"
"How many?"
He motions to his red cup.
I shake my head. "Oliver has the only bottle."
Holden chuckles. "Has he really convinced you of that?"
"No," I lie.
"Fuck. He did. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm not a narc."
"Never?"
"Never ever."
"So you won't tell him about this?"
He shakes his head of course not.
For a moment, the sounds of the party drift into the backyard. Laughter, conversation, the hum of Lorde.
The air gets charged.
Electric.
Then Holden's eyes meet mine. "Come here."
"Huh?"
"You want a birthday kiss, right?"
"Yeah."
"So come here." He pats the space next to his thigh. The space between us.
My heart thuds against my chest. "You'll do it?"
"It's your birthday. Like you said." His fingers dig into my wrist. "I can't deny a woman on her birthday."
"Oh."
His eyes meet mine. Then they travel down my body.
To my hand.
He lifts my arm. Leans down. Presses his lips to the back of my hand.
It's not the kiss I want.
Hell, it's as good as a rejection.
But it still sets me on fire.
I swear, somehow, someway, I'm going to kiss Holden Ballard properly.
Chapter Two
Holden
Three Hundred Sixty Days Later
"Is it going to hurt?" My client looks up at me with wide eyes. Vulnerability. An intense need for comfort.
She should know better.
This isn't her first rodeo.
"Yeah." I shoot her my best you know you want me smile. (It's ace, if I do say so myself). "But I promise I'll kiss it and make it better."
"Really?" She lights up like a pinball machine. Her brown eyes brighten. Her red lips part. Her nails dig into her skirt. "Where exactly?"
"You're having second thoughts?" I motion to the trace paper on her wrist.
"Oh." Her eyes move over me slowly. She does nothing to hide her stare as she checks out my shoulders, chest, waist, crotch.
There's nothing to see at the moment.
If she keeps staring—
It won't be the world's most exciting lay. But she's cute enough. And she's certainly eager.
The type who will paw at my jeans and beg for my cock.
"I was thinking something more… personal." Her gaze stays fixed on my crotch.
Are my jeans really that interesting? They're nice, sure, and they fit well. But they're a pretty basic medium blue. Dark enough to hide excitement. Stretchy enough to make it bearable.
Not that I—