Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“You didn’t fall for me. You had a good time one night, but what scares you more, Tatum? That you might fall for me or that you might like it?”
Her hands stay firm against me. “I don’t understand the difference.”
“Then give me a chance to show you. We might be good for each other.”
“We might be bad.”
I smirk. “We were always bad, but I haven’t lost all hope just yet.”
She closes the gap, her shoes between mine. “What makes you so confident?”
“I know a good thing when I see it.”
“And you see the good in me, Decker?”
Our breaths begin to mingle when I angle my head and whisper against the shell of her ear, “So much good.”
“What if . . .?”
“What if?” I whisper, matching her tone.
Tilting back just enough to look me in the eyes, she cups my cheeks again. “What if we had another night together. What would you do?”
“I wouldn’t waste a single second of it.”
“Then don’t.” Her lips crash into mine, and when I take her in my arms, I won’t let this second chance get away.
8
Tatum
Breaking the rules never felt so good.
Or maybe that’s Harrison’s lips on mine that feel amazing. God, how I missed this. Him. He makes me feel like he’s been craving me more than the air he needs to breathe. “Harrison,” I say, not sure why I’m even saying it but feel it purr through me again.
His hands run down my ribs to my hips and then up to my waist as if checking that I’m real. Pulling back, he looks into my eyes, breathing heavily. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know.” I run my hands over his jaw, feeling the rough edges of a recent shave. I’m famished for his touch, to feel like nothing else matters and lose myself in the abyss of the bliss he brings my way, even if for just a short time.
He says, “We should—”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
This time when he kisses me, the backs of my thighs hit the windowsill. When my back reaches the glass, he pulls me forward and takes my hand. “My room on the top floor will be better.” We’re fast out the door.
“I know it well. I’ve been in that bed many times.”
He comes to an abrupt halt on the stairs. “What?”
Then it dawns on me how that sounds. “Oh God, no. I meant, I sleep there when I stay the night. I’ve not had . . .” I whisper, “sex or done anything else with someone in that bed other than wearing face masks with Natalie.”
Confusion digs into his brow but then disappears. “Good enough.”
We continue rushing up the stairs when I slow, bringing him to a stop this time. He looks back, his hair already a mess and falling over his forehead. My stay-all-day lipstick didn’t live up to its promise, so I reach up and run the pad of my thumb over his lips.
He kisses it. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” He’s so handsome with his endearing eyes, that strong, sharp jaw, and the straight bridge of his nose. Why am I stopping this from happening? Why do I torture myself for no reason? Oh right . . . “The party.”
“Right,” he says with a sigh, his lids dipping closed. Running his hand through his hair, he takes three steps down, giving me the advantage. Releasing my hand, he takes hold of my waist again. “I don’t want to lose this . . . whatever it is between us.”
His words play my heartstrings like a violin. I suck in a staggered breath as fear creeps in—the thought of being hurt, the unknown, and the disappointment that followed a perfect night in Catalina, and what might have been tonight. I swallow it down, deep inside me, refusing to let it get air.
Taking a step down, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again. It’s not hurried or a goodbye, an end, or a kiss-off. It’s true and full of the feelings that I like better—the good ones that feed my ego and my well-being. “Would you like to come to my place tonight?”
A wry grin wriggles into place. “Yes.”
To the point. Much like Harrison Decker. For someone who I’ve overheard being called a shark in business, that’s not what he’s been with me. Not tonight, at least. “Then it’s a date, the kind with benefits.”
His deep chuckle fills the staircase. “We should get back.”
“I don’t want to make a spectacle. One’s enough for tonight.” I nod toward the top of the stairs. “And you should probably wipe my lipstick off your mouth.”
“Probably a good idea.” Rubbing his fingers over his wry grin is something I could watch all night, but I tear my gaze away and start down the steps as he heads in the opposite direction.