Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
He wore dark-framed reading glasses, and his hair was tousled from where he’d obviously been running his hands through it. My eyes traveled down his long suit-pant-covered legs to his crossed ankles. His large feet were covered in burgundy business socks, and there was something so intimate about it that I couldn’t drag my eyes away.
I tried not to think about the adage about big feet, but I couldn’t help dragging my eyes back up his legs in search of evidence. Unfortunately, his laptop was in the way.
“You okay?” he murmured, reaching out to brush a hand over my forehead.
“Why am I here?” I asked, shaking off the dreamlike fantasies. My voice was sleep-groggy and rough, and I wondered if I should detour to his kitchen for a bottle of water before heading out.
“You needed to eat something, and if I’d let you go back to your place, you would have face-planted into bed without eating.” He cupped the back of my head so he could look into my eyes as if seeking evidence of damage. “How’s your headache?”
I shrugged him off, unwilling to be tempted by his touch when I was awake enough to know it didn’t mean anything other than kindness and care. “Fine. How’d you know I had a headache, anyway?”
I moved off the bed, throwing the crisp cotton duvet back and searching for the bathroom. Unlike the beach house, I’d never been in Kit’s bedroom here in the penthouse. But I saw an open doorway to a room with tile flooring, so I headed in that direction. It wasn’t until I was closed in the bathroom with the lights on that I caught my reflection.
Kit’s faded Nova Syndicate T-shirt hung down past my hips over a pair of soft pink flannel pajama bottoms that fit me perfectly but were clearly way too small to be Kit’s. I shuddered in revulsion before stripping them off and charging back to the bedroom, shaking the offending clothes in my hand.
“Are you fucking serious? Did you give me some woman’s pajama pants?”
Okay, my voice sounded a little bit screechy and unhinged, which might have explained Kit’s raised brows and wide eyes. “No.”
I shook the pants again, regrettably noticing they were buttery-soft and actually felt very nice against my skin. It didn’t matter. It was the principle of the thing. “I do not need used clothing. And if I did, I would be content to wear yours, thank you very much. Fuck you with this bullshit.”
How could I not have noticed last night when he handed me a stack of clothes to change into? Well, it had been dark, and my head had been pounding enough that I’d kept my eyes mostly closed to keep out what light there was.
I threw the offending article at him and returned to the bathroom.
“Fucking asshole,” I muttered as I moved to the toilet and emptied my bladder. When I was at the sink washing my hands, the bathroom door opened and Kit entered. The look on his face in the mirror was murderous. He held the pajama pants in one hand as he moved up behind me and crowded me against the sink. I gripped the counter and tried not to get a raging erection as he brushed against my ass, which was covered only in a pair of skimpy boxer briefs and the long T-shirt.
“These are yours. I bought them for you after you pointed them out in a shop in Charleston several years ago. But then I decided they weren’t exactly a magpie treasure, so I never gave them to you. Instead, I kept them here in your bedroom in case you ever stayed over and needed clothes.” He tossed them on the counter next to my hand. “Put them back on, get back in that bed, and stop being a child.”
He disappeared back into his room, closing the door behind himself.
My entire body shook with the vestiges of anger, quickly morphing into raging lust.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, looking down at the obscene tent in the T-shirt covering my crotch.
I reached under the shirt and into my underwear, clasping my cock and squeezing. “Holy fuck.”
What had he said? He’d bought them for me? Put them in my room at his house? What the actual fuck?
Even though he was just on the other side of the door, and even though I would be mortified if he knew what I was doing, I couldn’t help it.
I shoved down my boxer briefs, shoved up the too-large tee, and stroked myself. My eyes slid closed as I remembered the feel of his large body behind me, crowding against me. The faded scent of his cologne, warm and masculine. The deep rumble of his voice as he commanded me to wear the pajamas.
Even though he thought of me as a child, I wasn’t a child. I was a man with an overstimulated libido, and I had needs. Specifically, right now, I needed to come.