Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Rafe started drawing little circles on my lower back. I sucked in a breath and tried to subtly nudge him. If he felt the nudge, he didn’t stop. It was extremely distracting!
And arousing.
“I, uh . . .” What the hell did Matthew ask?
“Star dresses up as cultural icons. Disney characters, movie characters, et cetera,” Rafe supplied for me.
“Oh.” Emily shot Jen a visible what on earth? look.
I stiffened.
Rafe must have felt it, because his hand opened on my back and slid around to my hip to squeeze me in reassurance. “She’s also a professional line sitter.”
“Do I even want to ask?” Emily chuckled.
“And is that your career?” Matthew was clearly trying to figure me out.
“Those are my jobs. I don’t really believe in the idea of a career.”
Emily guffawed. “Well, I never.”
“I mean for myself. Of course, I believe in careers. We need doctors, lawyers, vets . . . I get it. Just not for me.”
When Jen glanced away as if I’d embarrassed her, I felt my stomach knot.
“Aren’t you unusual, dear?” Emily observed, and I knew it wasn’t a compliment.
Ugh.
These were the Whitmans’ friends?
“Star is unusual.” Rafe glowered at Emily. “Unlike most people, she’s kind to everyone, considerate, lacking in pretension, free-spirited, and the best fucking sex I’ve ever had.” Rafe gave them all a tight grin. “Now, where is the bar?”
While I was pretty sure I stood there gaping like someone had just hooked me on a fishing line, Greg struggled not to laugh as he pointed out the bar to us. The rest of his companions stared at Rafe as if he were a stranger who’d trespassed upon their party.
Thankfully, my legs worked as Rafe guided me away from his parents and their friends, muttering under his breath about “these fucking people.” Laughter rose inside me as I hurried to keep up, then he stopped at the bar. He ordered two cold beers and then led me away from the party beneath the shade of another massive oak. “Here.” He handed me a beer.
I choked on a snort before blurting out, “The best fucking sex you’ve ever had?”
Rafe studied my face for a second and then burst into laughter.
I was so shocked by this I could only gawk at him.
When his laughter trailed off, he grinned that sexy, boyishly wicked smile of his that made me want to rip his clothes off and turn that “best fucking sex” comment into reality. “They were rude and judgmental.”
I glanced over at where his parents now stood alone, talking to each other in what seemed like hushed tones. “You’ve come a long way, Whitman.”
Fingers, cold from the bottle of beer, touched my bare back again and I jumped a little as I turned back to him. Rafe caressed the skin, right in the middle of my spine, almost in a soothing motion. Something like remorse glimmered in his eyes. “If that’s how I acted when we met, then I’m sorry, Star. I was a prick.”
Who was this guy?
What was going on here? With the affectionate, sensual touches and apologies and sticking up for me? “Rafe . . .”
“Rafe Whitman, as I live and breathe.”
The woman’s voice changed Rafe’s demeanor in a blink. His hand fell away from my body, his expression blanked, and he straightened, stiff and composed.
I followed his gaze to the woman who approached us with a smirk playing on her full lips. She was a level of sexy that would have made me insecure if I were the type of woman who allowed herself to feel small. Seriously, she was built like a Kardashian, and you could see every line of her sleek curves in the pale pink body-contouring dress she wore. It was sleeveless, with a scoop neck, and the hemline ended just below her knees. Her pale pink pumps matched. Her whole look was conservative but outrageously sexy, which was something I hadn’t known anyone could pull off.
Her dark eyes flickered to me for a second before dismissing me. She forced herself between us to lay a hand on Rafe’s chest as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.
Rafe, thankfully, didn’t lean into the kiss.
When she pulled back, she stayed close, hand still on his chest.
I wanted to rip that hand right off him.
The flare of jealousy was startling.
Rafe glanced down at her perfectly manicured hand like it was bird poop and instead of relief, I felt my protective instincts awaken.
He stepped out of her touch and toward me, sliding his arm around me to draw me against him. I snuggled into him, my bangles jingling on my wrist as I rested my hand where hers had been, as if to erase her touch. “Camille, how are you?”
Camille observed our embrace and her smile turned pained before she covered it with one filled with triumph. “I’m well. Just got promoted to junior vice president at the bank.”