Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
At least, you shouldn’t.
Normally I’m sound asleep at a quarter after two. Hell, I was cruising toward the land of nod fifteen minutes ago. Now, I’m wide awake, teeth brushed, hair finger combed, dressed in jeans and, yes, a fucking Henley.
I lean against the wall outside Ivy’s room as Hayes walks toward me. Like me, he’s ditched the suit for jeans and a T-shirt.
I give him a chin nod. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”
“Did you think I didn’t know you wanted her?”
Actually, I did. For a while at least. “Well, no,” I admit. But then screw it. I’m not here to shoot the shit with Hayes. We’re here for the woman.
I rap on the door. The seconds spread, each one growing heavier with anticipation, till the door opens, and Ivy’s there on the other side.
Wow.
She’s not wearing seductive lingerie.
She’s not pouting like a pinup.
Not that I’d object to any of the above. She’s simply wearing sleep shorts and a cami.
That. Is. All.
Her makeup is scrubbed off. Her skin is glowing. I want to devour her, but she seems to want to hold the reins for a bit since she checks us out with a fierce sort of determination. Purposefully, she looks me up and down, her eyes traveling freely in a way they haven’t during our last encounters. Her gaze slides to Hayes, and she gives him the same treatment. “You two were wrong,” she says.
A throwdown.
Did Hayes misunderstand Ivy’s request? “What do you mean?” I’m a little concerned. I don’t usually misread interest. My radar is finely calibrated.
“On the plane. You called my bluff.”
My brow creases, and I try to remember the conversation’s specifics.
“When I said I wanted to stay in,” she prompts. “And order room service.”
I remember now. Oh hell, yes, do I remember.
She licks her lips, then swings the door open all the way.
“Room service is indeed here,” I say, then we go inside and seal out the world. I head straight for the couch and sit down. Sofas are such fantastic accomplices in a seduction.
“Come here,” I tell her.
She follows my order, Hayes behind her. When Ivy reaches me, I tug her onto my lap. She looks nervous but excited too. My job is to help her relax so she can feel as free as possible tonight.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I say as Hayes moves behind her, standing, sliding his hands in her hair.
She gasps as he touches her. Yes, just as I suspected. She’ll want her hair played with.
I stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “I’ve been planning this for some time.”
“That so?”
“Yes. I wanted to get you two alone. To make my pitch.”
She curls her hands around my shoulders, and her touch makes my pulse gallop.
“So make it,” she says.
Do I want to lay it all out right away? I look to Hayes, who’s a little caught up in roaming his fingers through her hair. I think I’ll tease Ivy a little. “Should I tell her? Or let her be surprised?”
“Bet she likes surprises,” Hayes muses, then lowers his face, brushing his jawline against her cheek. “Do you, Ivy?”
She shudders, then rocks against my erection. “I do,” she says, eager, a little breathy.
But there are good surprises and bad surprises. There are delicious expectations, and there are disappointing misunderstandings. I want the former not the latter.
Yes, we’ve done this before, but Hayes told me she hasn’t. He told me, too, the basics of what she wants. But the thing is, wants can change, and I need to hear them from her.
Quickly, I roll through a couple scenarios, and she tells us what’s on and off the table tonight.
With that done, she locks eyes with me, then says, “I’m honestly a little bummed I didn’t get to hear your big pitch. To see you at a table, holding court, ordering top-shelf liquor, being all seductive as you tell me why you two want to have me.” She’s sly and playful, revving my engine with how she paints the picture of me.
Yes, I do like holding court. “Why don’t I cut to the chase now?”
“Do it.”
“Here are my closing arguments,” I begin, but I start with deeds, rather than words. I slide my thumb along her jaw. Not hard though. A whisper of a touch. It’s soft. Subtle. When I reach the corner of her mouth, I tease it open.
“Mmm. Beautiful,” I say, praising her as she swirls her tongue along my thumb.
She preens at the compliment, straightening her spine, all while Hayes strokes her hair. I run my other hand up her stomach, using only the tips of my fingers, a feather-light touch that makes her squirm.
She rocks a little faster against the outline of my cock.
“So here’s the thing, sweetheart,” I say.
“Yes?”
I move my face closer, but still inches away. Her lips part. Our girl is desperate for a kiss. “I haven’t even kissed you yet, and you’re practically begging for me.”