Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You still have lip gloss on,” I tell her and then see her eyes change from a light green to a dark gray right before my eyes. “It’s shiny,” I tell her, leaning in and nipping her bottom lip and then trailing my tongue along it. The tip of her tongue comes out just a touch to touch mine.
“It drives me crazy.” I kiss the side of her lip, and the tip of my tongue comes out again and now so does hers, trying to catch my tongue. “All I want to do is kiss it off,” I say, going to the other side of her lips and kissing her there, but her tongue is already coming out to get mine. “All night it drove me crazy,” I whisper to her. “All night,” I say and finally tilt my head to the side and attack her lips, her hands holding the lapels of my jacket while our mouths attack each other. My tongue fights hers, the need greater than it’s ever been. My hands now coming off the car to hold her face in them. I turn the kiss to the other side, somehow hoping to get it deeper.
Our tongues go around in circles. I don’t want to stop kissing her, but if I don’t, I’m going to take her in the back seat, and we are never going to leave this garage. When I finally pull my head back, her chest heaves and her hands still hold on as she tries to pull me again for a kiss.
“Sweetheart,” I say. She opens her eyes, and they are blue green now.
“I think I still have some lip gloss on,” she says softly, trying to get my lips back on hers, and I laugh.
“I think I got it all. Now let’s get you in the car and get home.” Her eyes blink a couple of times, and she comes out of her daze.
“You are a total buzzkill, Richards,” she says, using my last name, and I step back and open the door for her.
“Total buzzkill. I’m telling my sister.” I watch her get in the car.
“Maybe even Karrie and Allison.” She mentions them, buckling her seat belt.
“Even my mom.” And once she says her mom, I tilt my head back and belly laugh while she glares at me.
“You are not helping your case right now, Evan,” she huffs out, and I close the door and walk to my side of the car. I get in, then lean over and kiss her neck.
“Nope, you get no access to any of me until you feed me.” She turns with her back to the door. “I want a nice big greasy cheeseburger.”
“Are you okay with diners?” I ask her, backing up and pulling out. I make my way over to the little hidden treasure that everyone knows about and is always open.
“We may be a touch overdressed,” I tell her, and she just shrugs. “But they have the best root beer floats.” I watch as her eyes get wide like saucers.
When I pull up to the parking lot of the little diner, I see about ten cars there. “If we come during the day, they have people bring it to your car.” I park my car under the awning and turn off the car. Getting out, I make my way to her door, and I get there while she’s getting out.
“What did I say about waiting for me?” I scowl at her.
“Evan, I think I can get out of a car without you helping me.” She puts her hand on my cheek. “Besides, I’m so hungry I’m dying.” She is the best at turning the story around so you forget what you were talking about in the first place. She reaches her hand out for me, and I grab it, loosening the tie around my neck and unbuttoning the first button.
“Take off your tie.” She stops walking and waits for me to do it and then holds out her hand.
“I’ll put it in my purse.” I hand it to her, and she folds it, placing it in her bag. I walk to the small brown brick building with a lot of windows showing you inside. With a brown door on each end, I grab the brass handle of the closest door and pull it open. The bell over the door rings, and once the door closes, the open sign hanging in the window shakes.
“Two guests,” someone yells, and I look over at the woman. “Take a seat wherever you like, and I’ll be right there,” she says, and I look at Zara. “Do you want a booth, or do you want to sit at the counter?” I point at the counter with ten stools, and only three are occupied. Looking around the rest of the restaurant, I see that one booth is open.