Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I shouldn’t be in Philly. I definitely shouldn’t have driven all this way without telling Matt first. Yup. Total mistake. But that doesn’t stop me from heading straight to his apartment when he sends through the address.
I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I even went to the campaign offices this morning to work. Then I had flashes of that damn video call …
A quick case of fake flu, and that’s how I ended up here on his doorstep.
Of course, he has to go and torture me by answering the door in a towel. Only a towel. Then the fucker smirks. “You’re the gift basket?”
“Best gift basket ever.” I push my way into his apartment and stop dead in my tracks. “And you go on about how rich I am. Look at this place.” I spin in a circle and take in the sleek, modern furniture, hardwood floors, and the view of Philly out the large windows.
“Please. This place is worth a sixth of what yours is.”
“And about three times the size.”
“That’s because it’s not in New York.” Matt folds his arms across his wide chest. His towel is only holding on by that tiny lip tucked in at the side.
My hands itch to rip it off him.
“Noah,” Matt says and brings my focus to his face. “I thought you had to work.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I go with a semi-truth. “What, friends can’t fake being sick to get out of work, drive for two hours in crappy traffic, and then fight an old lady for street parking just to come say hi?” All those things happened, but I think we both know I haven’t come here to say hello.
Matt runs a hand over his beard and tries to hold back a smile. “So, uh, are you here for the day, or …”
“Something like that.” I’m here for as long as he’ll have me. My eyes go to his towel again. God, how I want it gone.
Matt grips onto it as he walks closer to me, and I can’t tear my gaze away. “I think you’re drooling.”
I fist my hand at my side. “I am …” I stare at his naked chest, his perfect nipples, his tight abs … damn, those abs. This guy is breaking me, and all he’s doing is standing there.
“Why are you here?” he whispers.
I suddenly don’t know. I thought it was for sex—for an in-person repeat of last night—and I definitely still want that, but now that I’m here, I realize … I just wanted to see him. After nine days apart, a video call isn’t enough.
Shit. Don’t admit that aloud. “I heard Philly has amazing cheesesteaks.”
Matt laughs, deep and rumbly.
With Noah-like charm—meaning no tact—I step forward and cover the hand gripping his towel. I open my mouth to threaten to rip it away from him, but it’s not necessary; his hand falls away without a fight.
“I came here to fuck you,” I say. I’m scared it’s written all over my face—the real reason I’m here: I couldn’t stay away.
Matt lets out the loudest groan as if I zapped him with electrodes attached to his balls instead of offered him sex. “I wish that could happen, but I have a showing on the apartment in fifteen minutes. I thought you were the realtor when you knocked.”
I stare down at his towel and back up to his face. “You answer the door to your realtor while only wearing a towel? If you had a real boyfriend, I don’t think he’d be happy about that.”
Definitely not happy.
Matt, however, loves my new jealous trait that I didn’t know existed and can’t stop smiling as he says, “I’ll be sure to tell her to keep her hands to herself.”
Abrupt subject change is needed. “Well, if we can’t stay here, what are we going to do?” I take a step back so I’m not tempted to jump him anyway. “When’s your financial meeting?”
“Had it this morning, so I’m free.”
“Okay, so you can show me your city.”
“You’ve never been to Philly before?”
“I have, but I want to see it how you do.”
“Uh …” Matt hesitates. “We could go see the Liberty Bell?”
“I’m sorry, are we on a grade school excursion? I want to see where you eat, where you drink … okay, maybe we won’t go to that club, but”—I shrug—“show me Matt’s Philadelphia. It could technically be classed as Damon’s homework.” Sure, blame Damon for the reason I want to get to know Matt on this whole new level I’m unfamiliar with.
“Umm … yeah. Okay.” He nods. “Okay.”
One would think I asked him to watch me fuck his sister with how uncomfortable he looks, but he shakes it off and heads for the hallway.
“I’ll get dressed and we can get out of here when the realtor shows up.”