Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Did you buy it like this, or is this one of those build-it-yourself situations?”
I laugh. “Does it really matter?”
She gives me a playful smile. “It matters a lot.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I study her like the puzzle she is. I can tell she’s got a playful streak and teasing someone is something she enjoys, so I play along. “Why?”
Her gaze leaves the food to land back on my face. “If you created that masterpiece on your own, I’m very impressed.”
“It’s not like I prepared the tapenade,” I admit. “But, yeah, I arranged it all.”
“Are you a food artist?”
“Hell no.” I shake my head for good measure. “I’m a guy who plopped some savory stuff on an old cutting board so he could feed the woman he wants to fuck for the next few hours.”
“No one could ever accuse you of being subtle, Joe.”
“I want to make you come again,” I say it slowly enough that there’s no room for misunderstanding. “So, start eating, Summer.”
She grabs a salty cracker, puts it between her front teeth, and clamps down. I feel that right down to my cock. She has yet to take my dick between her pretty lips. I hope that happens today and doesn’t involve any biting as aggressive as what she just did to the cracker.
“Your mind just went to a dirty place,” she accuses as she finishes the cracker with a final bite. “I see it in your eyes.”
“I feel it in my cock.”
That sends her head back in laughter. “As I said, subtly is not your strong suit.”
“You like that about me,” I say with zero doubt.
“I appreciate that about you.” She taps my shoulder. “If more people were as direct as you are, the world would be a lot less confusing.”
Something tells me that she’s talking about someone in particular. Her ex-husband, perhaps? That’s a maze I don’t want to wander into since my focus this weekend is great sex with some good food thrown in the mix to keep us fueled.
“Let me be very direct then,” I start. “After we eat, I want to fuck you.”
Her gaze takes a slow trip over my face, studying me carefully. “Are you open to a compromise?”
“It depends,” I answer succinctly since I’m curious about what she has in mind.
“I’m not going to ask what it depends on because I already know you’ll agree to my compromise,” she says like the vixen she is.
Her confidence is hot as fuck because this woman knows how desperate I am to be inside of her again.
Before I can say anything, she’s laying out her proposal, “I propose that after we eat, I suck you off before we fuck.”
I lean forward to claim her mouth in a deep kiss.
A smile blooms on her lips as she leans back to catch her breath. “I take it you’re open to my compromise, Joe?”
“Is that a real question?”
She kisses me again, nipping my bottom lip with her teeth. “Let’s eat, so we can get to the good stuff.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Greer
I glance down at the charcuterie board and what’s left of our late afternoon snack. We spent the last hour eating our way through most of it while talking about books, movies, and everything else two strangers might discuss while desperately trying not to strip naked to fall into bed together.
It’s not that I preferred the food over what I’d promised Joe, but we agreed to enjoy the spread he had prepared for us.
I did. I know he did, too, but just as we were finishing up, his phone rang three times. He ignored it the first two times it happened, but as it started up again, he cursed under his breath and told me he had to take the call.
Naturally, he bolted out of the room before he answered. I would have done the same if mine had started ringing. Fortunately, it hasn’t, but I’ve kept it close. It was in my hand until we sat down at the kitchen island to enjoy our food. Now, it’s screen side down next to me because I stole a peek at it once Joe was out of view.
“Sorry about that, Summer.” His deep, growly voice fills the silence in the room as he comes back into view around the corner. “It was a pressing work matter.”
Normally, this is where I’d ask what he does for work, but I don’t want to know. That knowledge would open a door that could tell me a lot more about him than I need to know.
When we say goodbye on Sunday, that’s a forever goodbye in my eyes.
“So, you’re not retired at thirty-five?” I tease.
His hand jumps to his hair. He rakes it with a push of his fingers through it. “I’m thirty-three, but I get it. The gray adds a sort of maturity to my look that I can’t say I mind.”