Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
What I’d give for that bluff to be real.
It could be.
While the flirting isn’t real, my heart still swells at how well Sally and I play together. We make a damn fine team. Yeah, this is just a game. A stupid, meaningless game that I know I’m reading way too much into. But I can only imagine the things Sally and I could do if we banded together like this all the time.
Mom would have loved to see that.
The thought hits me out of nowhere. I know with bone-deep certainty that it’d have thrilled Mom to no end to see Sally and me do everything together. I’d be so good to Sally. She’d be good to me.
Only we’re not good for each other. And that math, it don’t compute. The kind of life I’m dreaming of isn’t the life Sally wants.
Then again, I haven’t asked her point-blank what exactly she does want. I’ve just assumed, like everyone else, that she wants to be a world-class veterinary surgeon.
But I’m starting to wonder, is that Sally’s dream or her daddy’s? Because she’s expressed some angst about going back to New York. Is it my place though to dig into that angst? Would it be a selfish move on my part to explore it with her?
I’m not gonna be the one who holds her back. Keeps her from doing great things.
With a grunt, Beck pushes back from the table. “That’s all I got in me, I think.”
I watch him meet eyes with Sally. The certainty that he wants her to follow him sits like a two-ton weight in my gut.
The possibility that she’ll actually do it makes me feel ill. I have to let Sally go with him—I know I do. I just—
I can’t let her go.
I literally can’t take my hands off of her.
This sudden burst of possessiveness is a big fucking step. Hell, it’s a leap. The only reason I’m with Sally right now is because I promised to help her get into Beck’s bed. I know that. All the flirting, the touching, the dressing up—we did it in the hopes of getting to this exact moment.
The moment he shows his hand. It’s just a look. But it’s a look I know well. He wants the same thing she does, and now the ball is in her court.
Sally starts to rise. “Hey, Beck, I’ll—”
“Where do you think you’re going, Sunshine?” I clamp my hands around her hips and yank her back into my lap. “You’ve just started a winning streak. Bad idea to walk away from the table now.”
Her face flushing, Sally pulls her brows together, confusion written all over her expression as she turns to me. What are you doing?
She doesn’t say the words out loud. She doesn’t need to.
And for a million different reasons, I don’t need to voice my reply. I’m being a jealous asshole. I’m sorry. I can’t help it.
Am I actually sorry, though, when Beck walks away?
Sally stays put in my lap, and my hands dig into the delicious curve of her hips.
The image slams into me like a freight train—Sally’s on my lap, facing away from me, like she is now. We’re still sitting. Only she’s naked, and she’s playing with her tits as I guide her body up and down, up and down, her pussy’s grip on me unbearably hot and tight as she rides my dick in a reverse cowgirl position.
The image is so vivid that I can see the way the muscles in her back bunch and release with every curl of her hips. Her hair is long and loose over her shoulders. Her tits bounce in her hands as she moves. I reach around and stroke her clit with my thumb, a slow, steady rhythm that has her gasping for air, her pussy tightening around me to an almost-painful degree.
“I should probably follow him though, don’t you think? I feel like I’m missing an opportunity—”
“No.” I say the word with so much force that it surprises us both. My mask has slipped yet again without me even knowing it. Good thing the barn is emptying out.
The confusion on Sally’s face deepens. “Wyatt, he’s about to leave.”
I’m hit by an acute need for nicotine. Or sex with Sally.
Christ, I don’t know what I need. All I know is, this girl ain’t going anywhere with another man right now.
“Wyatt,” she says, “are you okay?”
My thoughts whirl—tell her he’ll come back, say she’s just upping the stakes, ask her to marry you—but I can’t make myself say the words.
Thank God my brothers are busy wondering what crawled up Beck’s ass and died, so they don’t witness my silent meltdown.
See? This is what happens when I let my guard down.
“Are you okay?” Sally’s face is close to mine. Too close.
Not nearly close enough. I swear this girl is gonna kill me.