Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
"You heard me."
"No, I'm pretty sure I didn't."
He reaches across the console, planting his hands around my waist. Before I can blink, he's hauling me onto his lap. The steering wheel is pressed against my back, trapping me in place. My heart beats like a freaking drum. But…I'm also not so sure I want to escape.
"You drive me fucking crazy," he growls. "You have for months."
"But…you don't even like me?"
"What gave you that idea?"
"You don't like anyone!"
"You're not just anyone."
"Did you have vodka tonight?" It's the only logical explanation for this conversation. Sidney Hawkes is not sitting here right now, telling me that he's wanted me for months. Not unless he's drunk.
"No. I had you coming all over my fingers." His lips drift down the side of my face, his breath hot and a little wild. "I want more of it, Hattie."
"Oh. Oh," I say, relieved. That's what this is. Sex. Yes, of course. "I never said we couldn't do that, Sidney. Just…no feelings."
"No feelings," he repeats.
"Exactly. That way, it doesn't get complicated or messy or—"
"Yeah, fuck that, butterfly," he growls, his hands locked around my waist. "I'm not interested in being your fuck boy or booty call or dick appointment or whatever the fuck it's called."
"Oh." I feel like we're having two entirely different conversations here, and I'm not sure what that means.
"I don't intend on being someone you're able to forget," he breathes against my skin. "By the time the wedding is over, you're going to be addicted to me."
"What?"
"I didn't stutter, baby." He nips my skin. "This isn't pretend. It isn't fake. You and I are happening, and it's not going to be temporary. It's not going to be whatever you spent half the night trying to convince yourself it would be, either."
"But…"
"No," he growls, sinking a hand into my hair to crane my head back. "This is happening, Hattie."
I clock the look in his eyes, and my heart stutters to a stop before racing away. He means it. He really means it.
"We don't fit," I whisper.
"Says who? Your mom? Random strangers?"
"For starters."
"Fuck all of them," he snarls, his eyes locked on mine. "You think I live my life giving a shit what anyone thinks about me or my decisions? Hell no. And I'm not going to let you do it, either. I think you've already spent far too long living under the weight of everyone else's expectations. You're done with that."
"But—"
"No," he says again, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "Thursday, you're coming to my game. On Friday, we're going on Tye and Vanessa's ski trip. And then, next weekend, we're doing the rehearsal and the wedding. And you aren't going to worry what your mother has to say about a damn thing you do. You aren't going to stress about what the world has to say about us or if you're meeting some impossible expectation. You're just going to be you and have fun. Nothing else matters."
He's wrong about that. Because this right now? Him fighting for me? That matters. It matters so damn much. I want what he's offering. I want it so badly I can taste it.
The only thing stopping me from reaching for it…is me. It's my own mind and the insecurities that have been drilled into me.
I'm tired of carrying them. I'm so damn tired.
On his lap, with his hand in my hair, his breath on my skin, and his impossible eyes locked on mine, I make a decision. I'm not doing it anymore.
Maybe it'll end in disaster, and I'll spend a lifetime nursing a broken heart, regretting my decision. But I think I'd rather know than spend a lifetime regretting that I didn't take a chance on this giant grump because I let fear win.
He wants me, despite what the world might have to say about it. I'm not going to make the choice for him or tell him that he shouldn't. I'm just going to hold on for as long as he'll let me. That's what I want. Not to fit or belong or be accepted. I just want to be his.
"I'd like to amend your plan slightly," I whisper, looping my arms around his shoulders.
"What do you want? Name it," he growls, as if he's willing to give me anything.
"I'm going to be me, have fun, and have lots of orgasms," I say.
"You doubted it?" he asks, one hand already crawling up my thigh. "Oh, butterfly. I have some things to teach you…"
My heart does this thing where it stops beating and starts racing at the same time. It's strange. And good.
"Lift your hips for me," he orders, hooking his fingers around the band of my panties. "Help me get these off."
My eyes dart around the parking lot, only to realize that it's mostly cleared out. The nearest car is several yards away. It's probably not far enough to qualify as privacy, but it does give us anonymity…