Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Hands curl around my shoulders. Garrett gently rolls me over to fit into the crook of his arm. He brushes strands of damp hair off my forehead. “You’re still pale.”
“I’ll be fine.” I mold myself to his torso with a sigh, my ear pressed against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
And that’s how I drift off.
“… kill with a stranglehold to its neck.”
My eyelids crack open in time to see a cheetah murder an antelope on the wall-mounted TV. “I’ve done that before,” I croak. I’m draped across Garrett’s body, my leg thrown over and wedged between his thighs. It’s the most satisfying way I’ve woken up in eons.
Garrett aims the remote at the TV to mute it. “Morning.”
I respond with a groggy moan.
He strokes a few loose hairs off my face. “How are you feeling today?”
“Empty.” I woke up in the middle of the night with my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, so I inhaled the tall glass of Pedialyte before burrowing back into Garrett’s warm body. “I’m never eating sushi again.” Not grocery store sushi, anyway.
“That’s fair.”
The TV screen flips to a tiger closing in on a wild boar. “Do you normally spend your mornings viewing animal slaughter?”
“No, I spend them at the gym. You looked so comfortable, though, I didn’t want to wake you by moving. But, yeah, I do like nature shows.”
Something to file about this man I know so intimately but also not at all. I’ll have to buy that fornicating mammal calendar as a Christmas gift.
If we’re still talking by then.
His phone vibrates on the far nightstand, but he doesn’t so much as twitch in response, his free hand smoothing over my hip instead.
“Any news from last night’s debauchery? Pictures?” I hope Joe had fun, despite my hatred for the night’s organizer.
“I doubt there’ll be any evidence of whatever went on.” He clears his throat. “You know, at that tequila tasting.”
“Probably for the best. At least I didn’t miss too much on my side.”
Garrett’s chest shakes with his laugh. “You really don’t know Sara at all, do you?”
“Why?” I ask, a prickle of wariness stirring. “Is high tea code? Like tequila tasting with a sommelier is code?”
“I’m no expert, but I don’t think high tea is served that late.” He pauses. “And not by men in bow ties and G-strings.”
I gasp. “Are you telling me I missed dirty teatime? Where’s my phone? I need to text Sara. There had better be pictures.”
“You like that sort of thing?”
“Hot bodies and large penises? Yes, I’m partial. How have you not figured that out yet?” Scarlet may have been mortified at the Polson Falls charity auction but I was in my element. “What else did I miss?”
“I think they were also heading out to Sara’s favorite drag show.”
“Nooo!” I pout into the crook of Garrett’s neck.
He pulls me tighter against him to press a kiss against my forehead. “I’m sorry you missed hot bodies and large penises last night and had to spend the night with me instead.”
“I didn’t even get to do that. I spent it with your toilet. Which is the nicest one I’ve ever puked in, by the way.” And this body of his is the nicest I’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. My hand slips under his T-shirt to admire the ridges of his abdomen. “Oh look, we’re back to the cheetahs.”
“They’ve been back and forth all morning.”
“How long has this been on?”
“At least an hour.”
“You watched me sleep for an hour?”
“No, I watched the cheetahs sleep. They were under a tree, looking peaceful and harmless. Like you do when you’re sleeping.”
“Funny.” I poke his ribs, earning his flinch. “Hey, you know what I like first thing in the morning?” I slip my hand under his shorts before he has a chance to answer, wrapping my fist around his hard length. I give it a little squeeze before I slowly stroke it all the way to the tip.
A heavy sigh sails from his lips. He leans in to press a gentle kiss against my lips. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”
“I need to make this trip worthwhile.” I tighten my grip, earning his sharp inhale.
His gaze searches mine. “Give me a minute.” He slips from my grasp, out from under my weight, and leaves through the bedroom door, heading downstairs.
I take that opportunity to stumble to the washroom and give my teeth a quick brush. A wave of dizziness hits me, and I have to brace my balance with a fist against the sink. When I come out, he’s setting a tall glass on my nightstand. “Drink this.” And then he vanishes again.
I shed my pajamas for ease, climb back into bed, and chug the entire glass of electrolytes, hoping that’ll clear this fog and renew my energy. I finish just as he strolls in, a square foil wrapper between his fingers, his T-shirt and sweatpants gone.