Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
True, but Killian didn’t date. “He doesn’t want the hassle of dating.”
“But he’s never dated. Why now?”
I shrugged. “He said it’s good for his reputation.”
Mars laughed. “Savvy, that man doesn’t give a shit about what other people say about him. No, I think he just wants to date you, and this way you can’t say no. The guy liked you in high school, and he likes you now.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I muttered.
“He wants you, so just fuck him and have fun for the month. And, babe, if you ever date him for real, he is nothing like the douche David.”
No, he was nothing like David. Killian turned my body into a puddle of melted butter. David never did that. “He’d never do what David did. That’s beneath him.”
“So call him. Tell him to come over and fuck you. And then tell me if he has a cock piercing.”
“Oh, my God. I’m not telling you that.”
“But you are thinking about it.”
“No.” I changed the subject because her idea was sounding better and better. At least my body sure as hell thought so. “What about that guy you met at the gym?”
“Matt?”
“Yeah.”
She shrugged. “Nope. Do you know he told me my outfit was too revealing and gave guys the wrong impression?” She shook her head. “I’m working out. What does he expect me to wear? A snowsuit?”
We both giggled, and she flagged the bartender and ordered another bottle of wine, which we consumed while laughing over the silliest things like how her boss Dwight walked like he’d been spanked the night before.
It was nearly midnight by the time we stumbled out, still giggling and I’d thankfully wiped Killian from my mind with the blissful numbness of alcohol.
The cab dropped me first, and I stumbled out, nearly falling when my foot didn’t lift high enough to step onto the curb. Mars laughed her ass off, and I gave her the finger. The cabbie waited until I was in the front door of my building then drove away.
I looked up at the three flights of stairs I had to climb. Shit.
I gripped the railing with both hands. “Damn, this sucks,” I mumbled as I started, slowly, up each step that appeared as if it was swaying or was it me swaying?
“What the fuck?”
Hmm, that sounded like Killian’s raspy voice. Was he so ingrained in me that I was hearing him everywhere I went?
I was concentrating on the next step and not the footsteps coming down the stairs toward me or the curses that accompanied the footsteps.
“Jesus.” Then he said, “She’s here. And by the looks of it smashed.”
“Damn. I’ve never seen her smashed.”
Was that Trevor?
I looked up and a blurred vision of Killian stood on the step above me. I rocked backward because he was really tall and I had to crank my neck far to see his face.
His arm shot out to hook my waist and stopped me from tumbling down the steps.
“Ya’re… here?” I slurred.
Killian was here. In my building. How was he in my building? Why was he in my building in the middle of the night?
“Mmm,” he murmured.
He bent and scooped me up in his arms. My arms hooked his neck, and my head lolled to the side to rest against his chest.
I closed my eyes and sighed. It felt good in his arms. Safe. Warm. Protected.
I’d never felt protected. I’d always had to rely on myself, but with Killian… it felt as if I wasn’t alone. But what scared me more was that it felt like I’d come home.
A home I’d never had before. At least, not one I could remember before my dad died.
“I’m home,” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
But that wasn’t what I was talking about.
Killian carried me to my bedroom then lowered me to the bed. “Let go, baby.”
Baby? Did he just call me baby? Oh, God, he couldn’t say things like that.
I uncoiled my arms from his neck and leaned back on the pillow, closing my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You won’t thank me in the morning,” he said.
“Why not?”
His hands were on my right foot, and my heel slipped off and clunked on the floor. “We’re not talking about it while you’re piss drunk.”
“I’m… not… pissss drunk.”
“You are.” His fingers encircled my ankle as he raised my left foot and tugged off the other high heel.
“Mmm, maybe. A little,” I murmured, closing my eyes and snuggling my cheek into the plush pillow.
“Lift your butt.”
His hands were on either side of my waist, and I sighed when the tip of his finger brushed my bare skin.
He grunted.
I kept my eyes closed, imagining him climbing onto the bed and straddling me. Then the feel of his hard body on top of mine, his hips grinding into me.
“Jesus Christ. Stop,” he barked.
My eyes flew open, and I groaned as the room spun. “Stop what?”