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 hope not,” I whisper, grinning as he leans over to press a quick kiss to my lips.
But even when our teeth bump together, it isn’t awkward. It’s fun and easy and…sexy.
Everything about this man is sexy, from the way he smiles to the way he talks about food to the protective hand he cups under my arm as we descend the icy steps on the opposite side of the pagoda.
Once we’re back on the trail, I’m in charge of feeding us both spoonfuls of mousse as Anthony navigates toward the front gate. We take time to admire the light displays we haven’t seen yet, including a glowing tunnel through a dormant lilac arbor that makes me feel like I’m in a 90s rom-com, but we don’t dawdle, either. In just fifteen minutes, we’re outside the front gate, and Anthony’s punching in the code to lock it behind us.
“That was amazing,” I say, feeding him the last bite of mousse before dropping the recyclable cup in a blue bin on our way toward the main street. “I think we’re closer to the subway here. I’m a little turned around, but—”
“We’re not taking the subway,” he says. I glance back to see him typing something into his cell. “I’ll get a car. We’ll be in the East Village at least fifteen minutes faster without waiting for the train.”
I blink. “But my hotel is in Midtown.”
He glances up from the glowing screen. “Oh, I… I thought we could go back to my place.” He studies my expression, pushing on before I can fully decide what I think about that idea. “But if you’re more comfortable at your hotel, that’s fine. I want you to feel safe.”
“I do feel safe with you,” I hurry to assure him. “I just…I think I’d rather go to my hotel tonight, if that’s okay. All my toiletries and things are there, and I should check on my cat. He’s still getting used to the big city noise. He might need another catnip chew to calm him down.”
His lips curve in a bemused grin. “You brought your cat with you?”
“I did. I couldn’t find anyone to watch him while I was gone and…” I shrug. “And we’re buddies. Pudge is my moral support. I’ve never been alone in New York before.”
“You’re not alone,” he says, nudging my shoulder gently with his. “I’ve got your back, kid.”
“Thanks,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“What?” he asks, arching an amused brow. “Not a fan of ‘kid?’ Compared to the old geezer you’re with, you are a kid, you know.”
“You’re not a geezer. And if you’re worried about a possible power imbalance, don’t be,” I say, lifting my chin. “Our age difference is balanced out by the fact that I’m basically your boss.”
He laughs, looking delighted by my chutzpah. “You’re right. You are my boss.” He makes a sexy, growling noise low in his throat as he squeezes my hip. “And what a tyrant you are. So demanding and hard to please.”
I roll my eyes, blushing as I grin. “Right. So hard. I think it took…what? Five minutes?”
“Maybe six, but yeah, you’re pretty incredible.” He exhales with a shake of his head. “But let’s not talk about that now, or I’m going to get hard again.” He leans down, kissing my forehead, making my entire being glow—body and soul—before motioning toward the street with his cell. “Just tell me where we’re going. I’ll call the car. Looks like there are a few drivers in the area. I’ll tell them to pick us up in front of the museum.”
I give him the name of my hotel and he types it in. A beat later, the ride is accepted. We reach the front of the Brooklyn Museum, with its façade illuminated in red and green in honor of the holiday, just as our driver pulls up.
Casting one last glance over my shoulder at the scene, not wanting to forget a single thing about this night, I slide into the door Anthony’s opens for me, ready for whatever comes next.
chapter 7
ANTHONY
The city slides past the windows in a blur of holiday lights and gently falling snow, the roads uniquely traffic-free on this chilly Christmas night. But inside the cab, we’re toasty warm. The driver blasts the heat while a jazz station plays softly from the speakers, making the back seat feel cozy, intimate.
Maya’s head rests against my shoulder, her fingers laced through mine, making me think about how perfectly she fits against me. About the way she gasped my name in the garden.
About how badly I want to hear that sound again, this time while my mouth is between her legs, devouring her sweetness.
I’m thinking about all that, but I’m also thinking about…Dave Mackey.
Dave, who gave me my first real job in construction when I was sixteen and desperate to earn extra money for college. Dave, who taught me everything I know about building codes and load-bearing walls. Dave, who helped me flip my first property while I was still an undergraduate at Columbia.