Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
"It's not like we're blood, Ava," I remind her gently. "Until a month ago, we weren't even related at all."
"That's beside the point."
"No, I think it's the whole point. You've been avoiding me since the wedding."
"Whatever. Have not."
Ava is a shit liar. She can't help but squirm anytime she lies, like she's physically incapable of being dishonest and still at the same time. It's how I know she wants me just as badly as I want her.
Unfortunately for me, she actually gives a shit what people think. And a whole helluva lot of people think the two of us dating is fucked up. The last thing I want to do is force her into something she isn't comfortable with, especially when my whole life is public. Most days, I don't even have to do anything noteworthy to get people talking. It comes with the territory when you're one of the highest-paid wide receivers in the league. But goddamn.
I'm tired of keeping my distance just to protect her. I'm tired of pretending we both don't want the things we want. And there isn't a chance in hell I'm letting some other motherfucker have her when she should be mine.
I don't give a shit what anyone else has to say about it. She's mine. I won't stand around and let some other asshole swoop in and steal her from me.
"How's your neighbor?"
"What? Who?"
I smirk, which seems to jog her memory.
"Oh! Um, he's fine. Great. Never been better," she squeaks, adjusting the towel again. "I'm supposed to see him later, so you really should go now."
"Nah, I'm good. Can't wait to meet him." I cross my ankles, settling in. "We'll swap stories. You ever tell him about the time you threw up in Janice's purse on the boat last year?"
"You are not staying here," she says, fuming.
"I am."
"No, you aren't!" she cries. "You have your own stupidly giant house. Go there."
"Can't."
She throws her hands up, exasperated, and damn near loses her towel again.
"Baby, honestly, just get dressed," I say, chuckling when she has to grab it again to keep it in place.
She shoots me a murderous glare. "Why can't you go home, Dawson?"
"Easy." I haul myself from her bed, sauntering across the room toward her. I expect her to back away from me, but she lifts her chin and stands her ground, her cheeks blazing. I want to trace that blush all the way to her pussy. With my tongue. Instead, I stop in front of her, so close I smell her strawberry shampoo and see the goosebumps rising all over her body.
She shivers, her pretty blue eyes darkening around the edges. The way her lips part slightly has my balls aching.
Christ. I want her covered in me—in bites and kisses and cum until she can't deny what's really between us.
"I can't go home because you aren't there," I say softly, reaching out to tap her nose.
She whimpers, the sweetest little sound I've ever heard.
I don't want to kiss her. I want to fucking devour her.
"Get dressed, Half Pint," I say instead, striding for her bedroom door before I remove that towel with my teeth. "I'm cooking."
"Great," she mutters behind me. "Now, he's going to poison me."
I pause in the doorway, glancing at her over my shoulder. "Why the fuck would I poison you?"
"Because you hate me."
"What the fuck?" I scowl at her. "Who the fuck told you that?"
She blinks, clearly caught off guard. "I…"
I turn, striding back toward her. "I don't hate you, sweetness," I say softly when I'm standing in front of her. "Never have."
"Oh." She gulps. "You're always cranky. I just…"
I lean forward, pressing my lips to her cheek. "You aren't ready for that conversation, Ava."
"What conversation?"
"The one where I tell you how goddamn hard it is to walk around with my cock throbbing all day, every day because of you." I nuzzle my face against her throat for a split second, unable to resist when she whimpers again. And then I pull back, trying like hell to give her a little space. "Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen."
When I glance back at the door, she's still standing right there, her feet rooted to the floor, her hand pressed to her cheek like she can still feel my lips there.
I groan softly, adjusting my dick.
This is going to be a long fucking night.
Chapter Three
Ava
Getting dressed takes longer than I care to admit, and it isn't because I'm frozen in place for a good five minutes after he leaves my bedroom. Emelia calls, freaking out about Royce Elliot. He swindled her into a date last night. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, she loved every minute of it.
I may leave out any mention of finding Dawson in my bed. And any mention of what he said.
I don't know what else to do! My world is still shaking on its foundations. I am not mentally prepared to hear my best friend tell me, in that infuriatingly smug tone, that she told me so.