Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Just a glimpse of her legs, slender and enticing.
My heart drums harder, teasing my dick to full attention, before I stand and make myself look away from her legs, instead meeting those tiger-gold eyes.
“There,” I say, careful not to lift her skirt too high, holding the fabric delicately. “I’ll try not to walk too quickly.”
“Thank you.” There’s something softer about her tonight. She looks at me through long lashes dusted in gold and smiles. “You look really nice in a tux.”
“I’m just another penguin now.” I grin at the irony. “Perhaps I would’ve been more striking if I’d mirrored Inky’s patterns.” I turn to escort her down the walk, where Merrick waits with the rear door open. “No one will even look at me, Elle. Not standing next to you.”
Shit, I can’t let myself look at her, but her airy gasp catches, perfectly timed with the erratic rhythm of my heart.
I’m so damned tangled up inside, and for once, I’m glad.
It’s hard to remember she isn’t truly mine tonight.
That this is all just a game.
Not when her warmth walks so close to me, and I want to feel her skin so badly.
Soon we’re at the car, shut up inside. The silence as Rick pulls into traffic is less awkward and more anticipatory.
Elle laughs, leaning against the door.
Her skirt fills the space between us, stretched along the seat to keep from dragging on the floor.
“We’re not looking at each other. Don’t tell me we got all dressed up in our fanciest clothes to ignore each other? Is that a rich people thing?”
It’s an August thing, I think, but I don’t say it.
I glance at her, quirking my lips. “You have a point. We’re acting like high school kids on their way to prom.”
“Ugh, we are.” She bounces to face me, drawing one leg up under her dress and leaning toward me. “Isn’t it fun, though? To feel all jittery again. To feel a little shy to look at each other just because we’re wearing such nice stuff.”
“I am not shy,” I grumble.
But damn her, she’s right.
It’s hard to look at her because every time I do my entire body pulses, and I don’t just mean my cock.
“You’re shy,” she teases, poking my cheek.
I turn toward her quickly and snap my teeth at her fingertip.
Elle jerks back, her eyes widening before she erupts into laughter. “God, you really are a wild animal!”
“I am no such thing.”
She parts her lips—but if she’s started to say something, she stops.
I don’t need to hear it.
We’re both thinking it.
I was an animal that night, wasn’t I?
Heat roars through me, and I have to look away from her again.
“Hate these things.” I clear my throat, tugging at the band around the neck of my tuxedo.
“Then why wear it?”
“It’s a must for these stuffy-ass events. Full black-tie formal.”
Elle makes an odd sound that’s half scoff, half giggle. “Sounds like you don’t want to go.”
“I don’t.” At least, not for the reasons that have anything to do with more political BS.
“Huh.”
I feel something prodding my arm and look down.
Elle pokes the crook of my elbow.
Over and over again, like she can’t keep her hands still and has to occupy them doing something.
Pretty little weirdo.
“If you don’t want to go,” she asks, cocking her head and still poking me, “why are we going?”
“I thought—” With a growl, I stop and catch her hand, holding her fingers firmly. “I thought you might enjoy it more than annoying me.”
Elle’s grin says I’ve played right into her hands. Or played her hand right into mine.
Whatever.
“I won’t have any fun if you’re miserable, August. Can’t say I’m much for big speeches either.”
“So what? That’s every day of the week that ends in y.”
“Liar.” Laughing, she twists in the seat, but somehow she has her back against my side, my arm wrapped around her, my hand still her prize. She tilts her head back against my shoulder, looking at me upside down.
Again, I’m awestruck by both her frailty and her warmth—and the way my body burns everywhere for her slender, sleek curves. “Where would you rather be tonight? If it was just you, and you’d skipped the fundraiser . . . what would you be doing?”
“Hm.” I run my thumb idly along the side of her hand as I think.
“Reading at home,” I conclude. “Watching the moon over the waves.”
“Then let’s go do that! We’ll watch the waves all dressed up, and you can read to me.”
I cock my head. She can’t be serious.
“That does sound like a better way to spend a beautiful evening,” I admit slowly.
“So what’s stopping you?”
“An overdeveloped sense of responsibility, for one.”
The kitten’s eyes glitter with mischief.
“Dude, live a little. Play hooky with me.”
I tilt my head. “You really don’t mind putting on that dress just to sit in my living room and read a book?”