Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
And I fucking hate Nate.
Oh and one more: buried beneath all these professional restrictions and complications, I want to bring her to the edge with orgasms so fucking intense they eke out her energy and sink her to sleep.
Inappropriate.
That’s the circle of hell I’ve been having a picnic in.
Jane shifts around the wooden post and leans on her bed, hands flat beside her waist on the pink duvet. “When we say no sex , maybe we should be more specific.”
I never flinch. “Specifically, my cock isn’t going inside your pussy.”
Jane crosses her ankles, her chest concaving in arousal. “I usually dislike when guys say pussy , but…that was good…very direct and assertive.” She smooths her lips together. “Assertiveness suits you.” She straightens up again and dusts her skirt, and our eyes meet in raw desire.
Fuck.
My muscles flame. Nerves scorched. I’m literally pinning myself to the fucking door. I can’t talk about this with her right now.
Not in her bedroom.
Not when we’re severing a shitload of rope that’ll allow me to move in closer.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I tell Jane.
She’s quick to change the subject like it’s as easy as counting to three. “We have to convince the world we’re madly in love.” She drifts to the vanity and then gracefully lowers onto the stool until she wobbles on the uneven floorboards. Jane catches her balance and then her big blue eyes lift up to me. “Do you have any experience in this area? Love.”
We’re really doing this.
I’ve wanted to.
I almost can’t believe I have the ability now.
“We should research,” Jane says in my silence. “Shouldn’t we?”
“We should,” I confirm.
She snaps off a hair tie, letting her wavy hair loose. “Well, you already know I’m looking down the barrel of four previous friends-with-benefits and zero boyfriends.”
“Why no boyfriends?” I ask.
Her eyes are on mine while she slips on a purple cat-ear headband. “Fame makes serious relationships utterly complicated, and it always seemed like too much stress. I’d rather put energy into my family.”
I nod.
She easily reads my features. “You’re not surprised.”
“No.” I’ve been around her every day for nearly a year. If any of that surprised me, then I’m not paying attention.
Jane likes her life structured and planned out. It gives her a sense of control that she’s inherently lost as a celebrity.
Feeling protected and confident in this plan to fake-date is important to her, and so it’s critical to me.
I watch Jane slowly rise to her feet, and I tell her, “I have two ex-girlfriends.”
“Two.” Her eyes drift along the rug before lifting up to me. “Did you experience love with them?”
A rough laugh catches in my lungs. “Hell no.” I shake my head. “They weren’t relationships I’d model anything after either.” I pause. “Not unless you want to cheat on me.”
Her lips break apart. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s way back.” I can see she’s interested in more. So I push forward. “Through all of eleventh grade, my high school girlfriend was sleeping with a guy she knew I couldn’t stand. I had no idea until graduation.”
She softens her gaze. “Teenagers can be particularly cruel.” She cups her hands in front of her. “I’d say we’re both equally awful at relationships, but you will be my first. Fake relationship, that is, but first nonetheless.” Red blemishes her neck.
I nod. “We’ll pull it off, Jane.” I breathe in a lung full of her fresh flower, spring scent. Wrong move.
My whole body reacts to the smell. It drives me fucking nuts, muscles contracting. Veins blistering. Cock straining against my slacks.
She wafts her blouse, clearly hot. “We will,” she agrees. “So what…um, kind of relationship should we have in public?” She talks quickly. “Should we be inseparably cute? Piggyback rides and sharing snow cones. Or scandalously flirty? French kissing and ass squeezes.”
My hand is clamped on my jaw and mouth. Trying not to think about my hand on her ass. Three Hail Marys is not enough to atone for what I’m feeling about her.
She hooks an arm around her bedpost. “I think being an inseparably cute couple would be easiest, but also not necessarily true to me.”
I drop my hand. “Not true to me either.”
A smile dimples her cheeks. “To us, then. We are highly…physical?” she asks tentatively.
“Affirmative,” I say.
The confirmation cranks the heat another hundred degrees.
“Okay…” She motions to me. “So cute couple is out then. The media might pick up on the deception. The other option is scandalously flirty. But how do we kiss? Not like the mechanics of kissing, which we both, I’m sure, understand.” She rambles on. “But the idea of kissing without screwing. Because usually I screw the people I kiss.” She presses her lips together like she’s forcing herself to stop talking, but our eyes stay glued on each other.
“We’re both adults,” I remind her. “I think we can kiss and stop ourselves from having sex.”