Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Huh?”
I cough and splatter before scanning the plush carpet indented by the shoes I hid from Roy so he couldn’t suggest I wear them again.
My blisters lasted longer than his combined efforts in the bedroom the entire time we’ve been together.
“Did you lose something?” I blubber when nervous, and it is showcased in the worst way. “I once lost a contact lens at a wedding ceremony. It was an intimate affair, but not even an hour of searching on my hands and knees could find it. I wouldn’t have bothered if I didn’t need it to drive home. I don’t wear contacts because I want different-colored eyes like some peeps. I need them to see.”
I take in the quickest breath. I’m not breathless because I speak in run-on sentences. It is from how close the stranger stands when he meets me at the entryway of the primary suite and how his eyes are even more fascinating up close. They’re like a frozen pond in the Alps in the middle of winter. Fascinatingly unique.
When he smirks like he knows the reason for the heat in my cheeks, he says, “I didn’t lose anything.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope.” The p in his reply pops and sends a rush of excitement to my core.
I wait and wait and wait for him to continue.
He does, but it isn’t close to what I am anticipating.
“But you did.”
Air hisses through his teeth as rapidly as mine when he flicks back half of my coat to expose the outfit I had hoped would milk my husband of one measly orgasm.
That’s all I wanted—one climax with the hope it would help me survive another three hundred and sixty-five days of misery.
That’s done with now.
Shitty moods, spiraling depressive episodes, and underhanded fatphobia comments I can handle. But booking a hotel and checking in with your mistress at the same time a competitor’s firm serves your wife divorce papers is above my caliber of understanding.
It is our anniversary!
Who does that? Who cheats and serves papers on your wedding anniversary?
Don’t take my anger the wrong way. The odds were stacked against us from the start. We weren’t compatible.
Roy likes to go to bed early and wake up before the sparrows.
I like staying up late and sleeping in.
Roy prefers savory.
I’m obsessed with sweets.
Roy hates foreplay.
I’m beginning to forget what it means.
We’re the opposite, and this time, opposites don’t attract.
When the stranger’s delicious scent flares my nostrils, I close my eyes and wish to become a fake-it-until-I-make-it girl.
Roy’s lack of upper body strength means there’s no possibility of pretending I’m with someone who won’t grunt to his release in less than thirty seconds.
His stinky pits would give him away in an instant, not to mention how he only pumps three or four times before he stills.
This man would fuck for hours. I’m certain of it. Just the scent of his heated-up skin raises my blood pressure to a level it’s never reached when bedded by Roy.
“Open your eyes,” the stranger demands a short time later, his gruff tone sending a current down my spine.
When my eyes open and lock, I follow his murky eyes’ lazy trek of my body. He starts at my chest before lowering them to my squidgy stomach.
Not once does disgust cross his face when he takes in how generously my curves fill the sexy mesh-and-rope design of my teddy. He drinks in my chunky thighs like he knows their sturdiness is an asset, not a downside, and the heat of his gaze makes me feel beautiful for the first time in a long time.
With my thoughts reckless, I try to find an out. “I should go.”
“You should. But you won’t.” Lust hardens in his eyes as he repeats his earlier request. “Knees. Now.”
When his hand gets lost in my mess of curls and he makes a fist, reality dawns.
He believes the same as my elevator co-rider.
He thinks I’m a paid escort.
“I’m not—”
He cuts me off by tugging on my locks firm enough to force me to my knees. “Don’t speak.”
His hold is aggressive, and it should sound sirens, but all it does is entice excitement. He likes what he sees, and it reminds me that, at one stage, I was seen as desirable.
Roy once said my sass was one of my most desired assets, so I use that against the stranger making me have wild, reckless thoughts. “I have pepper spray.”
His smile is a mix of dangerous and sexy. “Where?”
As he wets his lips, he forces my knees apart with a gentle kick. His tap exposes the reason I picked this teddy. It is crotchless, meaning it wouldn’t have taken Roy longer to undress me than it would have for him to fuck me.
“I can’t see a single weapon of destruction.” Desire runs rampant through my veins, making it hard for me to breathe when he murmurs, “I see a fuck ton of them.”