Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
She reaches for him, but he steps away without a single word or even the slightest glance. As he makes his way toward me, I sit up straighter, the anticipation of the rest of my night quickly filling my veins.
“Tilly?”
The sound of my name fills the air, but I’m so captivated by this man that I don’t hear the desperation in it until it comes again, this time so much louder. “TILLY!”
Shit. Chloe.
My head whips around, breaking the connection between me and the silver fox, and I find Chloe rushing through the VIP room. Her eyes are wide as she frantically searches, and the look of complete desperation in her gaze has me shooting to my feet.
“Chloe,” I rush out, diving toward her as I hastily fix my skirt back into place.
She turns at the sound of her name and relief flashes in her honey-brown eyes, but I pull up short, not mistaking the tears lingering on her rosy cheeks. “Oh, thank fuck,” she breathes, hurrying toward me, her hands outstretched as though she was about to scoop me up.
She reaches me in no time and immediately grips my arm in her tight grasp, unaware of the way her manicured nails dig into my skin, leaving little half-moon indents. “What’s wrong?” I demand, my gaze roaming over her from head to toe, making sure she’s physically alright.
“MANGOES,” she cries. “FUCKING MANGOES, TILLY!”
“What? What do you mean?” I ask, recalling that to be her safe word with Massimo upstairs. “What the hell happened? Did he take it too far? Fuck! I’m going to kill him.”
I turn on my heel, anger booming through my chest, more than ready to rearrange that stupidly gorgeous Italian face, but Chloe tugs on my arm, holding me even tighter. “No, no, no. Please. It’s nothing like that,” she insists, her desperation really starting to concern me. “He didn’t touch me in any way I didn’t ask for. He was great. It’s just . . . shit. Please. Can we just go? I need to get out of here.”
“I . . . uhhhhhh. Yeah,” I say, quickly shaking off the disappointment of not being able to explore my night with the world’s sexiest man across the room, but Chloe will always come first. She’s my best friend, and if something has caused her to come down here in tears, then this is big. Whatever’s going on, she needs me more than ever. “Let’s go.”
I slip my hand into hers and she quickly pulls me away. We round the corner of the VIP bar, and I see him again, a drink in his hand and those devastatingly addictive eyes locked on me.
A shiver sails down my spine, sending goosebumps across my skin, and as he raises his glass to me and nods, I know this won’t be the last time I’ll be seeing this fine man. Because even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t stop searching for him until I get to experience the feel of his body on mine.
4
TILLY
Staring down at my phone, my thumb madly moves across the screen, typing out a new message to Chloe as my professor makes his way around the auditorium, recapping everything he’s just spent the last hour and a half lecturing about.
Tilly: It’s been two days already. You’re killing me! Just tell me what happened.
Chloe: No. It’s too embarrassing.
Tilly: You made me walk away from what could have been the best sex of my life. YOU OWE ME!!!!!!!!!! Besides, it’s probably not even that bad.
Tilly: Promise I won’t even laugh.
Chloe: Liar!
Tilly: Pinky promise!!
I hit send and watch the little text bubble appear and disappear a million times over, and honestly, I’m feeling frustrated. Not at her, of course, but walking out of that club on Saturday night without scratching this intense itch has left me more than irritable, and apparently, no amount of toys in my bedside table are able to do the job.
Chloe: UGH!!!!! I hate you.
Tilly: You love me. Don’t try to deny it.
Chloe: Fine!
A wicked grin creeps across my face, and I wait with bated breath as the text bubble appears at the bottom of the screen. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, the moment I find out why she so desperately needed me to give up the best night of my life.
Chloe: I sneeze-farted, okay. Right in his stupid Italian face. He had me bent over like a goddamn pretzel and was eating my pussy from behind when the urge to sneeze came out of nowhere. It just happened. I sneezed and BAM! Fart right to the face. I didn’t know what to do. I was so mortified, I grabbed my bag and ran. I probably gave the guy pink eye.
A loud snort rips from the back of my throat, filling the auditorium, and I quickly try to conceal it with a cough, but I’m apparently not as discreet as I always thought.