Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“Yes.” My voice was more cautious this time.
“I sent you that attachment, and you turned beet red and slammed your phone down, refusing to look. But you kept sneaking glances at it, and eventually, you opened it. Why’d you do that?”
Embarrassment washed over me, but also frustration that he could make squirm in my seat. A vengeance fantasy popped into my mind. What if instead of me jumping out of the car, I shoved him out of his door? For a moment, I calculated the odds that I could slide into the driver’s seat before we crashed.
“Victoria?”
“You couldn’t have started with an easier question?”
He shrugged. “Sure I could’ve.”
That almost made me laugh. His question was outrageous, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I knew why I’d looked. But I didn’t want to back down and use the safeword for the very first thing he asked. He’d been right about one thing… it wouldn’t hurt me to talk about these things. Probably. “I didn’t want to, but… then I couldn’t help it. It was like my phone was whispering to me that I had to turn it over.”
Kyle laughed. “Got it. You had to look at my dick because your phone was haunted.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t want to look… but I also couldn’t not look.” I tried to think how to explain it better, which wasn’t easy when my cheeks were so hot I was pretty sure smoke was rising from them. “Okay, it’s like this. Suppose a friend visited you in December. He showed you a present, a little red box with a green bow on it, and he placed it under your Christmas tree. And then he said, ‘Whatever you do, don’t shake the box.’ Wouldn’t you be unable to resist shaking it, just once?”
“Forbidden fruit.” He nodded. “But I wouldn’t shake it.”
“Seriously? You have that much self-control?”
He laughed. “Hell no. I’d open it the second he left.”
That sounded about right. “Yeah, well, it was kind of like that for me.”
He smirked. “So you’re saying you wanted to unwrap my package?”
“Kyle.” My tone seemed like a precursor to the stern voice I might need when disciplining future students.
“Okay, I’ll admit, you answered more fully than I expected. Next question… were you disappointed it was that actor?”
“Are you kidding? Dick Van Dyke is a national treasure.”
He laughed. “My thoughts exactly.”
“And I’ve always liked Mary Poppins.”
“Yeah? When we get home, maybe we can stream it and fool around on the couch.”
I couldn’t help grinning at his nerve. Everything that came out of his mouth surprised the hell out of me. It usually also embarrassed me or turned me on, too. Or both. “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”
“Smart girl. All right, last one.”
My breath hitched in as I mentally braced myself. But… I was also smiling a little in anticipation. By giving me the safeword, Kyle had also somehow made it so that I could talk about this stuff without having to worry about things getting out of hand.
“Ready?” he glanced over. “You look like you’re preparing for battle.”
“It kind of feels like a battle.” One that I wanted to win. “What’s your last question?”
“Did you like seeing me shirtless down in the basement?”
“Yes.”
“Because from where I was standing, it seemed like—hold up, did you just say yes? No hesitation? No pink cheeks and shyly looking away?”
“I’m pretty sure my cheeks haven’t stopped being pink since I climbed into your truck.”
“I can confirm that’s true. Now hold the wheel while I strip my shirt off.”
I laughed, and he joined in.
“Anyway, I’m proud of you. You did well. Now you get to ask me some questions.”
“About what?” I was eager to turn the tables on him, but my mind had gone blank.
“Anything you want,” he said, but then he amended his answer. “Except grammar. Or spelling. Or citing sources.”
“Deal.” I smiled as I tried to think of something. “Okay… boxers or briefs?”
He laughed. “That question’s overdone, but it’s better than asking my favorite color.” We reached a straight section of the road. Kyle checked his mirrors and then shot over to the other lane to pass a slow-moving Cadillac. “Okay, if I have to pick between the two, then briefs.”
“You can choose other kinds.” Not that I knew many other kinds of men’s underwear.
“I wear briefs sometimes, though not tighty-whities. Black or dark blue, stretchy. I’ll model them for you later if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“I also like boxer-briefs or trunks sometimes.”
I nodded, like I knew what he meant. But the internet would know when I checked it later.
“Is that a thorough enough answer for you, Teach?”
I nodded.
“Good. So my turn again—”
“Wait, you asked me three questions.”
“I know, but when you went straight to boxers or briefs, I figured that was as brave as you were going to get.” His voice, and the look he leveled at me, were taunting. It was a challenge.