Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I don’t care if this is wrong or crazy or the wildest thing I’ll ever do.
I want this man. I want him tonight and tomorrow night and every night I can get between now and when we go our separate ways.
“I think chemistry’s covered,” he murmurs when he finally pulls his lips from mine.
As he sets me back on my feet, we’re both breathing hard. He steadies me with a hand on my hip. I lean against the wall behind me, but keep my palms on his chest, marveling at the feel of his heart racing as fast as mine.
“I think so,” I murmur, meeting his hungry gaze. The look in his eyes promises he’s desperate to finish what we started, too, but I have to make sure. If we decide to do this, I have to know being with me is something he’s choosing because he wants it, not because he has to. “But if you need money for rent or food or a gambling debt or something, I could just loan it to you. Interest free. You don’t have to…you know. If you don’t want to.” My cheeks begin to burn, but I force myself to keep my eyes on his as I add, “I would never want to be in bed with someone who didn’t truly want to be there.”
His gaze softens with what almost looks like affection and his voice is gentle as he says, “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you, but I’m serious, I—” I break off, my jaw dropping open as his fingers circle my wrist, guiding my hand to the front of his pants. I gulp at the feel of him still rock hard and hot beneath my palm, my cheeks blazing as he says, “I want you, Maya. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you walk across the library. I want you so much, it’s going to be hell to wait until tomorrow night to have you under me.”
Under him…
The words evoke a torrent of X-rated images that flood through my brain.
Holy hell, I want to be under him. I want it so much that my voice trembles and my knees threaten to return to their gelatin state as I whisper, “We don’t have to wait. If you…don’t want to.”
“You don’t know how tempting that is.” He releases my wrist with a ragged exhalation. “But I want you to be sure, too. Take the night, think about it, and if you still want this, want me…”
I pull my palm away from his long, thick length, curling my fingers into a fist in an effort to keep my hands to myself. “Then we’ll meet at the top of the Empire State Building?”
His lips curve. “I’m pretty sure it’s closed on Christmas Day, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Once you’re sure this is right for you, Twyla will give me your number, and I’ll text you to arrange a time and place to meet.” He pauses, that affectionate look in his eyes again as he adds, “I’ll be looking forward to it. You’ve saved me from spending the holidays alone.”
And he’s slowly saving me from the belief that I’m destined to die a lonely, untouched cat lady, surrounded by baskets of half-finished crochet projects, books, and furballs.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly happy to be a cat lady living my best cottage core life, but I’d like to believe that someday I’ll share that life with a sexy boy who loves cats and staying cozy on a Friday night as much as I do.
Or maybe a man who loves those things…
Anthony can never be that man, of course, but for the next week, he’ll be the closest thing I’ve ever had to a boyfriend.
I’m so excited, I can barely contain myself until he’s out of the room.
The second the door closes behind him, I let out a silent squeal of excitement and do a happy dance around the sofa, thrusting my arms and prancing like a quarterback who just scored a touchdown.
And no, I haven’t scored yet.
But with Anthony’s help, I’m pretty sure I’m going to…
chapter 5
ANTHONY
Hunter isn’t my most compassionate friend, but he’s the most honest.
He’s also a twice-divorced, confirmed bachelor whose extended family doesn’t make a big deal about Christmas, just like mine.
Which means he’ll likely be free for a heart-to-heart on Christmas morning.
Uncle Chris and Aunt Tina throw a giant New Year’s Day party every year that I wouldn’t miss for the world, but growing up, Christmas was never a big deal around our house. Maybe because there was never enough money for presents for five kids, maybe because Aunt Tina was raised fundamentalist Christian and so scarred by the experience that she steers clear of anything remotely religious.
Maybe both.
But Tina is the kindest, wisest woman I know, proving you don’t need religion to be an incredible human being. If I’d called her to talk this through, she would have dropped whatever she’s doing this morning to give me her best advice.