Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
The grip is rough. Possessive.
"Hey." Holden's voice is just as rough as his touch. "Having fun?" He loosens his grip. Runs his thumb over my skin. It's like he's saying I've got you.
His body is right behind mine. So, so close to mine. So, so close to where it needs to be.
And this—
He's jealous.
He's rushing in to save me. Or maybe it's more than that. Maybe he's rushing in to stop someone else from touching me.
My heart thuds against my chest.
My veins buzz.
My sex clenches.
"Yeah." The dark-haired guy looks at Holden strangely. "You one of Daisy's friends?"
"Yeah," he says. "We were gonna head out, actually."
"Us too," the dark-haired guy says, totally oblivious to the tension. "We're heading to a party. Good view. Free drinks. Poker."
Holden turns my body toward his. Stares into my eyes. "What do you think, kid? Want to go?"
God, there's something about the protective look in his eyes.
It sets me on fire.
I don't think.
I just nod yes.
Chapter Twenty
Daisy
"They're on their way." Holden slips his cell into his back pocket. He turns toward Mark—that's the dark-haired guy's name—and his friend Steve. Not the tall guy from inside. A different guy.
Steve is in board shorts and a tank top. Not club attire. But then every other person who steps out of the club is dressed for the beach.
Mmm, the beach. That's an idea.
Holden and I skinny dipping at the beach.
Holden and I naked.
Right now.
Holden—the actual dressed guy, not the one naked in my fantasies—moves closer. "You guys met in college, huh?"
Mark starts going on and on about their business 101 class. And how they all ended up at different companies with the same finance job.
He goes into great detail about his very uninteresting job.
"Sounds like what Ariel does." He turns to me. "Are you good at math, kid?"
"God no." I can't help but laugh. "It's my worst subject."
"What did you take last year?" He arches a brow yeah right.
"Calculus."
"You're bad at math but you took Calculus?"
I nod yeah.
"And you got, what, an A minus?"
"A B plus," I say.
He looks to the guys. Ridiculous, huh?
They just shrug.
"It was my worst grade." I ignore the guys. Focus on Holden. "And uh, I had to study a lot for that B plus. All the time."
"Calc was hard," Steve says. "I don't blame you."
"You in college?" Mark asks.
"Yeah." I will be. Soon. "Berkeley."
Holden looks at me curiously. Like he's examining my half-truth. But he doesn't call me on it.
"You too?" Mark asks.
"No." Holden shakes his head. He points to his arm.
The other guys stare at him with confusion. "You're an… arm model?"
I laugh. "You could be."
"Maybe Skye can help." He refers to his brother's girlfriend, who's a plus-sized model. And a photographer. She has a bajillion Instagram followers, and it's easy to see why.
She's really pretty. And she has perfect boobs. They're amazing and she's always showing them off in black lingerie. Or a black bikini. Or a black corset dress. (She wears a lot of black. And a lot of black makeup).
I guess that's a lot. Progress. I envy her body. There isn't a single part of me squirming over the thought of being too much.
See.
Tonight is a good night. A night of freedom. Freedom from my brain.
"I can help." I pull my cell from my purse. Open the camera. Turn it toward him. It's too dark to see anything. I take a picture anyway.
He blinks at the flash. "Dammit, kid, warn me about that."
I show off the photos. It's terrible. He's squinting, his face twisted with discomfort.
But those tattooed arms.
Mmm. He's so sexy. I want him. And I want him to want me.
I want all the things. All the normal things. Not to prove a point. Because he's the sexiest man in the history of the world.
And I'm a woman. It's official.
"Want one of me?" One of the guys strikes a pose.
"Sure." I snap a picture of him. Then his friend.
They move closer to look at the photos. Stand behind me. Right behind me.
Holden's fingers curl around my wrist. He pulls my body into his.
My shoulder brushes his chest.
His arm slides around my waist.
My eyes meet his. God, he has such pretty eyes. That gorgeous shade of green. Those flecks of grey.
I stare up at him.
He stares down at me.
Mark and Steve talk about something.
A car horn honks.
"That's our ride," one of the guys says. "You two ready?"
"Yeah." Holden steps backward. Turns toward the car. An Uber. A normal sedan.
Small for the four of us.
No room for Oliver and Luna.
Where are they anyway?
"Give me a sec," Holden says.
The guys nod sure. One of them goes to catch the driver.
Holden taps a text. Looks up at me. "You sure you want to go?"
No. I want to stay here, on the boardwalk with him all night. It's beautiful. Warm. Romantic.
Private.
But that's not an option.