Something Borrowed Something You Read Online Vi Keeland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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* * *

Hunter didn’t joke around about us having sex when we left the restaurant. To my surprise, he didn’t even attempt to come up to my room after he walked me into the lobby.

“Thank you for dinner, even though I should’ve been the one who paid since it’s your birthday. And thank you for picking me up at the airport, letting me crash at your house, and shuttling me all over.”

“You’re welcome.”

I pressed the button to the elevator. “I guess I’ll be in touch next year for our first joint Caroline-birthday-tradition present?”

“Going to need to exchange numbers to get in touch next year. Think you can give me the right number now that we’ve made friends?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

Hunter dug into his pocket for his cell and extended it to me, but when I went to take it, he latched onto my hand. “Kiss me once more.”

I looked around the hotel. There were people milling around in the lobby, even a family with kids. “I’m not sure our kiss would be G-rated enough for the lobby.”

As if it was in cahoots with the man, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. Hunter took my hand and pulled me inside. He pressed the button to close the doors and tugged me close. “Now we have privacy. What floor?”

“Fifteen. But I’m not going—”

The rest of my sentence was swallowed into a kiss as Hunter planted his mouth over mine. Perhaps it was third time’s a charm, or perhaps I was aware that the elevator ride wouldn’t last very long and subconsciously didn’t want to waste even a second, but I didn’t bother to try to fight it. I opened for him, and my body melted into his the minute his eager tongue found mine. The electricity that had been zapping between us since the very first kiss ignited like a 220-volt switch had been flipped on. Hunter gripped my wrists and held them behind my back, which only made my need to touch him even more desperate.

When the kiss broke, I was confused. My heart raced, my breaths were ragged and uneven, and the elevator doors I’d watched close were now open again. Apparently, we’d risen fifteen floors, and I hadn’t felt a thing. Hunter knelt and picked his cell up from the floor. I’d dropped it without even realizing. That seemed to be a common thing when he kissed me—my ability to focus on anything other than the kiss disappeared.

“I don’t know what it is about you … Trust me, I’ve been trying to figure it out for almost a year.” He shook his head and held out his phone while clearing his throat, although his voice was still hoarse when he spoke again. “But I can’t keep away no matter how damn hard I try. So if you want me to be a gentleman and stay on this elevator, put your number in. Otherwise, we’re going to your room until you give it up.”

I collected myself and nodded, still unable to find my voice. Before that kiss, I’d had every intention of giving Hunter my phone number. What was the harm? He lived three thousand miles away, and I was reasonably assured he wasn’t a serial killer. Plus, we now had an annual gift to coordinate for our sweet Caroline. But my still-racing heart reminded me that this was a man I should minimize contact with. There was no specific reason, yet I knew it was the right thing to do. It was like when someone throws a punch and you instinctively raise your hands to protect your face. Hunter’s kiss sent my body into self-protective mode. Smiling up at him and taking in his handsome face one last time, I punched ten digits into his phone and offered it back.

“You sure it’s the right number this time?”

I lied. “Yes.” Then I practically ran out of the elevator. “Good night, Hunter. Happy birthday. Take care of yourself.”

Chapter 10

— Hunter —

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Nine hours on a bus that smelled like urine. Happy birthday to me.

The last time I made the trip from Berkeley to UCLA, I’d been fucking miserable. The air-conditioning had been crap during one of the worst heat waves to hit Southern California in a decade. A month later, summer’s heat had cooled into fall, so at least the temperature wasn’t making the already bad smell into pungent hot piss. Still, next time I needed to get to the terminal earlier so I didn’t get stuck sitting next to the nasty bathroom.

The only good thing about this trip was that the seat next to me was empty. And I’d fully taken advantage, spreading my charcoal pencils and sketchpads all over the place. I was shading the angles of a drawing due Monday for my structural design class when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I smiled before even digging it out, knowing it was her.


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