Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He ignores my taunt and pushes the key into the lock. Inside, the apartment is pitch black. It’s déjà vu, only this time, Grant’s not going to haul me up against my bedroom door and kiss me senseless. He’s going to leave. Right now.
I can’t let that happen. I whirl around and clasp my hands together. “Help me get to bed?”
He frowns.
“What?” I sound surprised. “You yourself just said I’m drunk. I can’t even walk straight. Ahhh, I’m falling.” I’m not. “Help me get ready for bed and tuck me in.” I don’t even wait for him to agree. I head for my room and pray with every fiber of my being that he follows.
My plan of seduction takes a sharp left turn when I flip on my light and get a good look at my bed. I just washed my sheets earlier this afternoon. The bedding is crisp and fluffy and I’m running toward it before I can help myself.
I let out a guttural moan of pleasure when I get a whiff of detergent. Heaven is a freshly made bed, let me tell you.
I could go to sleep just like this, but Grant walks over and slowly turns me over then motions to my feet. “Left one.”
I lift up my left foot, and he takes off my shoe. When he drops it, I lift my other foot for him.
His eyes rove over my face as he admits, “You know your brother gave me an earful this week. All sorts of threats about staying away from you.”
“He interrogated me too.”
He sets my shoes neatly in the closet and then walks over toward my dresser.
“Pajamas?”
“Top left drawer.”
He tugs it open. “It seemed so cut and dry when we first met. I couldn’t pursue you. You didn’t want me pursuing you. It was better for both of us if I just kept my distance.”
“And here you are, picking out my pajamas. I like the ones with little lambs on them, by the way.”
He finds the pair I’m requesting and tugs them out.
“Sit up.”
I do as he says, dutifully lifting my arms. He comes to sit on the edge of my bed, and I smile at him with a dopey lovesick smile. Lean in and kiss me, Grant. I’ll rock your world, you just wait.
He doesn’t return my smile though. His eyebrows are furrowed so deeply they’re almost touching. He doesn’t look angry, exactly…
He tugs my shirt up and off gently, like he’s taking care not to hurt me as the collar slips over my nose and ears. Then he sets it down on the bed and, with reverent care, slips my pajama top on to replace it. No monkey business. No staring at my chest. God, how can he be so good? I want to be bad, bad I tell you!
“Can you take off your shorts?” he asks.
I can, but I shake my head. Why would I when it will be so much more fun to have him do it for me?
He shoots me a deadpan look and I bite down on my bottom lip, not because I’m trying to be sexy—hello, that ship has sailed—but because I’m genuinely trying not to laugh. This is all too funny. Grant Navarro is sitting on the side of my bed, larger than life, with a surly expression and that handsome face and those kissable lips and I would trade my entire life savings to know what he’s thinking right now as he unbuckles my jean shorts and shimmies them down my legs. I lift my butt to help him out a little bit and then they’re gone, whisked away.
He puts my pajama shorts on much too quickly for my taste. It only takes him half a second and then he’s off to my bathroom, returning with my pre-loaded toothbrush and a cup of water. It occurs to me then that I might be taking advantage of the situation a little.
“Now I feel bad for making you do this. I only wanted to keep you here a little longer. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. What do you want?”
“For you to finish with that toothbrush so I can put it back.”
“Fine.”
I brush and brush while he sits down on my bed and watches me.
He’s trying so hard to be annoyed, I can tell. I let my eyes cross just to poke at him. He yanks the toothbrush from my mouth and then takes the water cup from me while I’m still drinking it.
“Hey!”
“Lie down, Tate.”
“So grouchy.”
“Says the pain in the ass.”
I burrow down beneath my comforter wearing an ear-splitting smile. “Oh please! You’re the one who almost accosted me in the elevator! You…you…”
I forget what I was going to say as he flips off the bathroom light and stands there, leaned against the doorframe, watching me as I dig deep in my psyche for something to say that will set us perfectly back on track. Only, I can’t think properly when he looks at me like that.