Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
It was all just… too good.
Though, admittedly, I had to say it was probably a good thing that Storm had acted as the cutest little cock-block in the world.
Because I was perfectly aware of just how useless my body still was. Getting better day by day, sure. I wasn’t using the pain pills anymore. Though I would usually pop some ibuprofen before bed, so I could sleep without my ribs aching. But still not anywhere near full capacity. And if things were going to get physical with Silvano, I would really prefer to be an active participant. Or, at the very least, not cringing because my ribs hurt, stealing any chance of getting a solid O out of the whole situation.
I moved over to the window as he took Storm out, watching as he stopped to talk to some dog walker who was clearly helping out a shelter with the little Adopt Me bandanas. Then as he let Storm and Samantha play.
I hadn’t anticipated the way my heart squeezed a bit in my chest as Samantha left, then Silvano played with Storm for another couple of minutes before moving out of sight.
He was a guy who took himself so damn seriously. I rarely got more than a lip twitch out of him—and I was constantly trying—or anything more intense than a little chuckle.
He shook his head at me when I used a baby voice with Storm, or when I talked to him like he understood me.
It was nice to see him loosen up a bit. Even if it was only when it was him and Storm around to see it.
I forced myself away from the window, wandering through the apartment that I’d started to become pretty fond of. And not just because it came with a live-in maid and food delivery guy.
It just felt cozy.
Homey.
More like home than any I’d been inside in years. Not since, I guess, my childhood home.
But I really needed to get out. Even just to take a walk to the corner store or something. Just some fresh air. I was feeling restless.
I never expected for him to ask me out to dinner.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a date.
But it was hard to believe otherwise when he was suddenly buying me a pretty gray-blue dress that almost perfectly matched my eyes. And being willing to put on a suit himself.
It felt date-like.
Sure, it had been a dog’s age since I’d actually been on a proper date. But it fit all the parameters for one.
So was my heart all pitter-pattery as I snuck away to the bathroom to fuss with my hair and get the rest of the way ready?
Yep.
I wanted to get the bandages on before finishing my makeup, then sliding into the dress, and doing a big reveal.
Until I realized that wrapping your ribs with a casted hand was not really possible, no matter how many times I tried.
I could have slipped my pants back on before I called him. But some part of me felt too excited at the idea of him coming in with me wearing next to nothing, having his hands on me while he wrapped me up.
So I just draped an arm around my boobs, then watched as he came in.
I’d tried to imagine him in a suit.
Clearly, though, my imagination wasn’t as good as I thought. Because the reality knocked any fantasies I had right out of the park.
Because Silvano Costa?
He cleaned up nice.
Really nice, in fact.
Even more surprising was the fact that the man hadn’t just clearly bought a suit off of a rack and thrown it on. This all-black ensemble had clearly been tailored to fit just him.
The effect was worth whatever he’d paid for the luxury.
He smelled good, too. Like he’d just put on some more of that cologne I liked so much.
The man had even put on a fancy watch and cufflinks.
He looked insanely hot.
And the bathroom suddenly felt minuscule as he moved into it, sucking up all the air, then sliding his fingers against my skin.
I didn’t even try to pretend the sensations weren’t impacting me. Didn’t try to pretend like I shivered because I was cold, or that I sucked in my breath because something hurt.
I didn’t want to pretend.
I wanted him to know what he was doing to me.
I worried for a while, though, if he was just spaced out or missing the signs.
Until, suddenly, he was touching me when and where he didn’t need to, those long, strong fingers grazing over my belly, hip, and thigh, creating little goosebumps in their wake.
I was watching him so closely, that I saw the decision before he even said the words.
Fuck it.
Then I was watching as he lowered down in front of me in his expensive-looking suit, his head turning so that his lips were pressing against my thigh, starting low, then moving upward.