Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Don’t do it, imaginary Mailer hissed at him. Come back. Let’s go clubbing.
Show me a single man alive who would say no to this.
That’s fair. Mailer again. Just remain objective. Don’t be in it for anything but the sex.
“Okay, got it,” Robbie said.
“Got what?”
“I meant, yes. I’m in.”
When Skylar put the car in park and the engine abruptly cut out, Robbie almost had a heart attack. He’d thought they were still on the fucking highway.
Nope. They were in the parking lot of a Dunkin’.
This dirty calendar had blown a fuse in his brain.
“Should we start now?” Skylar asked, blowing another one. Pew. Pew.
“Here?”
“What’s the matter?” She pursed her lips at him. “You’ve never flirted in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot before?”
Funny how she didn’t seem to realize the way she naturally challenged him was flirting. The best kind, apparently, because his whole body started to thrum. “Go on.” Robbie jerked his chin toward the rear of the car. “I’ll meet you at the trunk.”
“As long as you don’t stuff me inside of it.”
“Not until I get my blow job.”
Skylar giggled on her way out of the car and Robbie’s breath hitched in response, his gaze zeroing in on that tiny little gap that formed between her jeans and the small of her back when she exited. A miniature handle he wanted to slide his fingers into to tug her back into the vehicle and kiss her senseless. That wasn’t happening until Tuesday, though, according to the schedule, and he wasn’t going to push his luck.
She knocked on the rear window. “What are you doing in there?”
Answer: waiting for his erection to go away. It was one thing to flirt in a Dunkin’ parking lot. It was quite another to do it at full mast in broad daylight. Problem was, his brain had made it to the end of the itinerary to “Main Event (Maybe)” and now every part of his body was sweating. Would they have to fabricate some excuse to leave her family and hump it out in a parking lot somewhere, his jeans around his knees, her panties torn down the middle, the car rocking steadily faster?
Goddamn.
Wherever this ended up (maybe) taking place, he’d bring his A-game.
She’d be a changed woman afterward.
And somehow, some way, he’d make sure he wasn’t too much of a changed man.
“I give up,” Robbie muttered when his dick adopted a heartbeat. Giving himself a junk adjustment, he climbed out of the passenger side. Quick glance down to make sure the thing wasn’t pointing east like a weathervane, then he put as much swagger into his step as humanly possible, rolling to a stop in front of a curious-looking Skylar where she leaned back against the trunk, watching his approach. “It’s the first of the month, Rocket. Time to pay up.” He eased into her personal space, using his knuckle to tilt her head back. “You’ve been living in my head rent-free.”
She blinked, lips parting.
Nailed it.
A laugh burst out of her, the force of it causing her legs to lose their balance, her butt landing on the rear bumper. The girl was literally shaking.
“No, you didn’t,” she gasped, holding her ribs.
“What?”
“I hope you’re happy. You’ve disgraced this hallowed Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.” Skylar sailed through another round of laughter. “I can’t believe you used a pickup line on me.”
“Pickup lines exist for a reason,” Robbie defended. “A man has to start somewhere. You’re lucky I didn’t ask to buy you a coffee, because I like you a latte. I thought about it.”
She was laughing so hard at this point, her eyes were starting to turn glassy.
This wasn’t going well. At all.
Robbie loved the sound of her laugh, but he didn’t take her shocked amusement as a good sign when they were supposed to be flirting. Time to turn it up a notch. Which he hadn’t been required to do in . . . ever. And something inside of him, possibly his competitive nature or maybe just an intense need to appeal to this woman, had Robbie leaning down and hovering his mouth a hair away from Skylar’s. Close enough to taste orange juice on her breath. “You’re fucking beautiful all the time, but especially when you laugh.”
Ironically, her mirth died down, brown eyes running a curious lap around his face. “I’m already confused about flirting. So far, according to you, it’s either cheesy or intense. Isn’t it supposed to fall somewhere in between?”
“It’s a mixture of both. Making you laugh, but also making sure you know . . .”
“Know what?”
An exhale hissed out of him. “That I’d like to wake up tomorrow with your knees imprinted on my mattress.”
Her chest dipped. “Any girl’s knees, you mean.”
No. He didn’t. But this was her way of reminding him of the barrier between them, wasn’t it? This wasn’t real, no matter how much he wanted it to be. She was there to learn from him, not to make an actual connection. Still . . . “If we’re going to be convincing this week, maybe you just have to pretend I’m talking about you, Skylar. All the time.”