Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
He even sometimes dropped a kiss on her mouth before she left his apartment to return to her own. She called him on it each time. He never did anything but flash her a small smile that held a tinge of pity. Like it was both cute and a little sad that she thought she had a say in the matter.
Rather than annoyed, she found herself rolling her eyes.
One thing hadn’t changed—her body still lit up like Vegas for him. And what kind of unfair bullshit was that?
She didn’t have much time left to work off their chemistry, because their arrangement would end soon. Or might do. All things considered, she supposed there was a chance he’d be interested in scrapping their fling’s intended expiry date. He wasn’t tied to Dayna now, and he didn’t seem anywhere near as annoyed by Bailey’s presence as he used to be.
She kept waiting for him to tire of her. Not simply sexually, but in general. Bailey wasn’t an easy person to be around—she owned that. Embraced it, even. But Deke just seemed to not care.
No matter how much she annoyed him, no matter how exasperated he became, no matter what she said or did … he never told her to go away. Never asked her to shut up. Never proclaimed that she was too much of this or too little of that.
Oh, he insulted her and stuff, but it was just playful shit talk. The dude might have little patience, but he never actually lost it with her. And she had to admit, it was nice to feel accepted. Her snake had grown to like and respect him for it.
Given that his sense of restlessness had eased and she rarely saw him scratching himself these days, she figured the touch-hunger would pass altogether in a week or so, maybe even less. She’d be relieved for him and his cat, but if he didn’t wish to extend their arrangement she’d be secretly disappointed that they were parting ways.
It was kind of horrifying to realize that she’d actually grown to really like the guy. How in the hell had that happened? It wasn’t as if he’d invested any effort into trying to make her warm up to him or anything. It just simply came to be.
He might be using her for sex, but he never made her feel used. On the contrary, he made her feel … good. It was in the small things he did, really.
He stocked mac and cheese micro meals for her in his freezer. He always gave her a mouthful of crap if he found out she’d skipped lunch and insisted she take better care of herself. And, knowing she hated the cold, he never put the thermostat low when she was here even though he burned hotter than the freaking sun.
A heavy arm draped over her as he scooted closer. She snapped her eyes open, only then realizing she’d closed them.
“Why are you slapping yourself?” he asked, his voice lazy, his breath fanning her hair.
“Trying to wake myself up a little. I don’t want to accidentally fall asleep.”
He only grunted. It had to make her terribly weird that she was becoming fond of those grunts. His sex grunts were her favorite, though.
Feeling her eyelids get real heavy, she forced them wide open. “I gotta go.”
“’Kay,” he mumbled.
But neither of them moved an inch.
“Really, I gotta go. Lift your arm.”
“You lift it.”
She frowned at him, but he missed it—his eyes were closed. “No, you do it.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“Then rest for a sec while you work up the energy. And don’t wake me when you leave.”
She sniffed. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Bailey let herself relax as she waited for her body to catch a second wind. She’d get up in a few minutes. She truly would. Though it would be hard, because he was so warm and his duvet was a delight and she was sleepy from post-sex chemicals. She’d just rest her eyes for a sec. Just a sec …
Bailey wasn’t sure what broke her dream, but it softly cracked as wakefulness pulled at her. As the cobwebs of sleep lifted, she let her eyes flutter open. Not too wide, though. It was kind of bright in here.
Licking her dry lips, she blinked several times to clear her fuzzy vision so she could check the time on her LED lamp. Only … her lamp wasn’t there. Nor was her nightstand. A mahogany one stood in its place—taller than hers, and littered with receipts and chump change.
She tensed, awareness bleeding into her mind fast. An awareness that she was in Deke’s bed, his chest to her back, his arm curled around her waist, his face buried in her hair. And it was morning.
“Fuck,” she slurred.
He hummed, the sound all gravelly with sleep. “Figured you’d say that when you woke.”