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)
He turns to face me. “Yes, but in my defense, I was enjoying watching you search for them. You tapped your chin every time you opened a cupboard and they weren’t there.”
I hold back a smile. “I didn’t do that.”
He taps his chin with his pointer finger. “Like this. When you do it, it’s fucking adorable.”
“I don’t do that,” I argue playfully.
“You sure as hell do, Summer.”
I drop the subject for one that fascinates me. “So, you know your way around the kitchen here?”
“I do.” He acknowledges with a brisk nod. “Mrs. Frye cooks dinner for me sometimes. Technically, she sits and sips wine while she instructs me on how to cook us dinner just the way she likes.”
Surprised by that, I smile. I only know the owner from our message exchanges on the vacation home rental app. She was incredibly friendly. I could have done without her trying to set me up, but I stepped right into that when I mentioned I’m divorced and traveling alone.
“I told you I was the neighbor,” he reminds me. “I’m a damn good neighbor.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He rakes me from head to toe. “You’ll judge me a ten out of ten.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “You’re a little too sure of yourself, Joe.”
“I know what I have to offer.” He steps closer to me. “You’re about to have a weekend you won’t soon forget.”
The assurance in his words is matched by the promise in his gaze. I know he’s speaking the truth. This man exudes a raw sensuality that I’ve never experienced before.
“But first, wine.” He flashes me a smile. “I’ll pour two glasses.”
I nod, suddenly struck with the overwhelming urge to ask him a question. “Are you single?”
His gaze finds mine again. “I am, but I’m not looking for anything…”
“Oh, no!” My hand jumps in the air to ward off what I know he’s about to say. “I’m not looking for anything either other than some weekend fun. I don’t want to overstep a line drawn by someone else. That’s all.”
“A line drawn by another woman?” he questions. “If you’re asking if I’m married or involved, I’m not. I’m happily divorced.”
“Me too,” I blurt out without taking a second to consider whether I want to share that with him.
His gaze drops to my bikini top. “Your ex-husband is an idiot of the highest caliber.”
Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I nod. “You have no idea.”
I could say the same to him about his ex-wife, but I don’t know what tore them apart. I don’t want to know. Dealing with my divorce has caused me enough misery to last a lifetime.
“We’re both available, so let’s take advantage of it.” He motions toward the wine bottle. “If I don’t open this soon, so we can savor the taste, I’ll be tempted to pass it over to taste you.”
“Who needs wine?” I tease.
“Not me,” he says, but there’s not a hint of amusement in his tone. “If you’re willing to let me dive right in, I’m more than ready.”
“Dive right in?” I question because I want to hear him say the words.
“I’ll spell it out for you.” He moves toward the large dining table to set the bottle down. “I’m going to strip that bikini off of you in the next ten seconds and dive between your legs because I’ve been craving you since I first saw you.”
To accentuate the point, he slides two foil packages from his pocket and tosses them onto the table near the wine bottle. “We’ll need these later. For now, I want you to come on my tongue.”
His words echo through me as I glance at the condom packages. This is happening. I’m about to give myself to a complete stranger. That’s something I never thought I’d do, but yet, in this moment, it’s the only thing I want to do.
“I want that, too,” I whisper so softly that it’s barely audible.
I know he hears it because a slow smile glides over his lips. “Let’s start with a kiss.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Greer
Joe’s hands jump to my face. The touch of his skin against mine is electric. Heat ignites deep within me, coursing through my veins. I feel as though I’m lit up, aching for more, and we haven’t even started our exploration of one another yet.
His gaze pierces me. He looks into my eyes as though he’s searching for a secret I’ll only share with him.
“You want me,” he states. It’s not a question because there isn’t one to ask. My body is aching for him. I know he can sense it.
“More than you know,” I whisper because it’s the truth.
Everything about him screams sheet-clawing sex. It’s the type of sex I’ve never had but always longed for.
I’ve settled when it comes to intimacy. I know that now. The hunger in his gaze is telling me I’ve missed out on something I’m on the precipice of experiencing.