Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Hey! My grandparents are the bomb.”
“I’m sure they are, but you always have to consider what you’re selling. If the answer is nothing—by all means, do your thing. I imagine the average pro hockey person has a more sports-driven presence, though.” He paused as if gauging my reaction, adding, “You’re big news here, Ty, and the town wants to celebrate your achievement. I can help with that. If possible, maybe I can atone for the dreadful oversight that haunts me to this day. I want to fix this. I hope you’ll allow me to make amends.”
Toby’s warning about doing things we didn’t want to inconveniently resurfaced. I was supposed to say yes, be charming and agreeable…to Walker Woodrow. And yet, he was bending over backward to be nice to me. It had to be trickeration.
Fuck, this made my head hurt.
“I’ll think about it.”
Walker smiled tentatively. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Let’s exchange contact information.”
I rattled off my digits and sipped my latte, slouching slightly with my legs spread in an uber-casual pose while Walker fussed with his bag and straightened his shirt. After what felt like a complicated dance, he inclined his chin in a wordless good-bye and sashayed to the door.
I watched him carefully, like a wolf cataloging his prey’s movements.
Nice delusion. It lasted for all of five minutes before I admitted that I’d been outfoxed by a savvy adversary who had me right where he wanted me.
I wasn’t the wolf in this scenario. Walker was. And I was his lunch and dinner.
Or so he thought.
It was time to study up on the redhead. I no longer had the luxury of ignoring him. I needed to figure this guy out and arm myself with some ammo.
Game on, Woodrow. Game on.
CHAPTER 6
WALKER
Let me just say…this was a lot.
A lot.
I hadn’t slept a wink since the night of the BJ incident. I’d tossed and turned, reeling from spiked adrenaline and nefariously gained newfound knowledge. I’d felt like a dirty peeping tom, and maybe I was. I might not have sought out the sexy scene, but I hadn’t run away from it either. I’d been a deer in headlights, frozen in shock and wonder ’cause yes, yes, yes, it had been hot with a capital H.
So hot that I’d actually jerked off to the visual. More than once.
Okay, at least five times.
It couldn’t be helped. I’d had no power over my fingers inching under the elastic of my PJ bottoms and briefs, and wrapping around my cock. I’d been in a haze, lost in a kaleidoscope of naughty imagery.
I’d gripped my dick firmly, stroking to the rhythm of Ty tugging his lover’s head, fucking his mouth, whispering nasty nothings. My X-rated brain had turned up the volume a few notches till they’d both been naked in the alley in the middle of the day…so I could see better, of course. The scene had morphed into deep kisses, rough nips, and a short decisive battle to see who’d top whom.
Ty won. He’d pushed the faceless man against the brick wall, buried his thick cock inside him, and—I’d come.
The first time I’d been overcome by that fantasy, my orgasm had hit me so hard that I might have blacked out for a few seconds. I’d woken at some point with dried cum on my T-shirt and lower abs. I hadn’t bothered cleaning up, which was so not me.
But wow, I’d felt like a new man in the morning light—rejuvenated and clear minded…until I remembered my predicament and my stomach clenched unhappily.
I’d been a jittery mess throughout our meeting, but it had gone pretty darn well, if I did say so myself. My idea to help him reset his social media output was genius. It was the perfect trade.
Even Robin agreed.
“Good one! Let me know when you’re doing the interview, and I’ll carve time out of my very busy schedule for photography and videography duties.”
“Thank you, but I’m still awaiting Ty’s final go-ahead.”
Robin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How long have you been waiting?”
“A week.”
Yep, a whole week of constantly checking my cell and randomly replaying our meeting in my head. I’d made good points, and he’d seemed interested. I’d tactfully dropped the inquiry about his partner-slash-possible-secret-boyfriend, even though the curiosity and certainty that I knew him was driving me mad. So why hadn’t Ty responded to my messages?
“Oh.”
I winced. “I know. My last text went unanswered.”
Along with the previous three.
“Oh,” Robin repeated. “Maybe call him?”
I sighed, wrinkling my nose. “I will. In the meantime, we’re discussing beehives and honey harvesting with the Clancys on Friday. Beeeee ready for some sticky good fun.”
“Bad pun alert.” Robin adjusted his glasses as he pushed away from the monitor and the newest episode of What’s New, Smithton? we’d been editing. “I’m off. Don’t let anxiety get the better of you, my friend. Ty Czerniak’s cooperation isn’t a reflection of you.”