Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Not wanting our friend to feel strange about the show of emotion, I cleared my throat. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“For real?” Scooting her chair closer to mine, Cammie looked like an eager teenager, leaning in to hear the school tea at the back of the classroom. “Spill.”
“This stays between us,” I warned.
“Well, of course. We’ve lived here longer than you, you know.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, and there’s enough gossip flying around about me and Ramsay.”
“Look, all I want to know is … is he as good at it as he looks?”
Taran groan-laughed. “You’re such a nosy cow.”
Cammie, unsurprisingly, didn’t flinch at the comment. Instead, she seemed delighted by Taran’s amusement. “You’ve known that about me our entire lives.” She turned to me again. “So …?”
How good Ramsay was never failed to make my skin flush hot. God, my body literally readied itself for him at a mere thought. “He’s … the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Woo!” Cammie squealed, raising a palm up high.
Customers turned to look at us, but I laughed and gave her a high-five.
“Get it, girl.” She lowered her voice. “One of us should.”
“Things aren’t going well with the postman from Oban?” Taran queried as if she already knew the answer.
“When you practically have to draw a roadmap to your clit, then no, things are not going well.”
“Cameron McQuarrie, wash your mouth out!” an older woman called angrily from the line at the coffee counter.
Unfazed, Cammie gaped in mock innocence. “Why? Can you smell my coffee breath from there, Mrs. Wallace?”
I covered a laugh as Mrs. Wallace sniffed and turned away.
“Maybe if her husband knew where her clit was, she wouldn’t be such a grumpy witch,” Cammie muttered.
Taran leaned forward, lips twitching. “Maybe you could lower your tone when you’re talking about clits and cocks in my store.”
“No one mentioned cock.” Our purple-haired friend turned back to me. “But speaking of … Ramsay’s?”
She really was incorrigible. “I’m not describing it.”
“At least describe what it can do.”
I laughed so hard at her petulant tone, I had to wipe tears from the corners of my eyes.
“I think if she does, you’re going to feel very jealous,” Taran mused perceptively.
Cammie raised an eyebrow. “Just because he’s the best sex she’s ever had doesn’t mean he’s amazing. It could mean our Tierney’s had a poor showing in the past.”
At her questioning tone, I shrugged. “It’s both. Four boyfriends. The one who was at least decent at sex also turned out to be a narcissistic douche canoe.”
“Hugh?”
“Hugh.” I contemplated my past lovers. “My first real boyfriend was in high school—Blake. He was privileged but sweet. Too sweet, maybe. The sex wasn’t good, but he was kind, and I think that’s important for a first boyfriend. I broke up with him when we graduated. He went off to Harvard while I stayed in New York, studied hospitality management, and interned with the Silver Group. That’s where I met boyfriend number two. Eddie was a young marketing intern. He was funny, sharp, nice but not too nice. Sex was okay. But he couldn’t get over the differences in our background and he always felt not good enough and nothing I said could change it, so we broke up. Third boyfriend, Mikael, a couple of years older than me. Son of my parents’ friends. Another so-called privileged brat, except he had all this guilt about it. We dated for eighteen months and probably saw each other six out of those. He traveled all over, volunteering with a water aid charity. I admired him more than I was attracted to him. But he was a good guy. Last I heard, he’d fallen in love with a young woman he met in Rwanda, and he married her, much to his parents’ displeasure.” I grinned, thinking about Mikael and how he always did what his heart told him to do. “He was my favorite of all my boyfriends. And I still didn’t love him.”
“Or have good sex, apparently. Until now.” Cammie grinned and turned to Taran without thought. “What about you?”
I stiffened.
It was common knowledge now that Taran’s fiancé had broken their engagement. He couldn’t handle her grief. I felt such a kinship with her, knowing now that Hugh couldn’t handle mine.
“I’ve the libido of a starfish,” Taran replied flatly. “So, I don’t care.”
“In the future, you’ll care again,” I whispered.
“Surely there are celebrities you’d jump if you had the chance.” Cammie tried to lighten the mood.
Taran gave her a half-hearted smirk. “If Brodan Adair weren’t married, I’m sure he could unstarfish my libido.”
Cammie chuckled. “He’s getting on a bit, is he not?”
“Uh, no. That man will still be sexy as hell at seventy,” Taran argued.
“Nah, give me some North Hunter over Brodan Adair any day.”
“He’s actually very nice,” I offered.
Cammie gaped. “You’ve met North Hunter?”
“Yeah. He was at a gala in New York about five years ago. He had his wife with him. She’s stunning. And funny. I liked them.”