Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“And you don’t feel things?”
He grins. “I didn’t say that. But you should know that I’m handling this situation differently than I normally do.”
“Are you saying you’ve been in this situation before?” I can’t help asking.
That gets a chuckle out of him. “Why do I feel like I’m being cross-examined? What I’m saying is, when I date a woman, I almost always fuck her.”
Shocking. Brett could get anyone into bed with those blond good looks, dazzling eyes, and NFL body.
“But you said fucking is off the table.”
“It is. For two reasons. First, if one of my best friends falls for one of you, I don’t want him to be in the position of knowing I fucked his wife.”
I nod. “Makes sense. But you all had to know that two of you might fall for the same woman.”
He shakes his head. “Unlikely. We’re all very different. The second reason is that I want to get to know all of you equally before I make any decision. That negates fucking. Believe it or not, I wasn’t going to go past kissing, but I already broke that rule last night.”
“Ariel...” I say.
He doesn’t offer further commentary.
I take another sip of wine. There’s not really anything to say.
“You should know,” he finally continues, “that for me, sexual compatibility is paramount. That’s why I usually take a woman to bed early if she’s willing.” He meets my gaze, and I swear his blue eyes have turned to fire. “I like to fuck, Sienna. I like to fuck a lot. So whoever I end up with has to like to fuck a lot. She has to like what I like.”
I lick my lips as I let his words sink in. “And what is it, specifically, that you like, Brett?”
I brace myself. What if he has some freaky kink like golden showers or something? I can handle being spanked, even being tied up. But peed on? No thank you.
“I like to worship every inch of a woman’s body, Sienna. I want to smell, taste, and touch every part of her. And I want her to do the same to me.”
My skin is blazing. “Today must have been difficult for you then.”
“Difficult?”
“Yes. Not being able to touch me. Taste me.”
God, did those words just come out of my mouth? Yeah, that wallflower is dead and buried. I’m hot and horny and ready to do whatever Brett wants. Would we be compatible long term? I doubt it at this point. But I already know he can make me come...and I’m ready to go there again.
And again and again.
“It was,” he admits, swirling the wine in his glass again. “Tell me, Sienna, are you as fruity and spicy as this wine?”
The throbbing in my pussy goes into overdrive. “You could find out.”
He nods, taking another sip. “I think I’d like that. Since I’m finished with my ceviche, you wouldn’t mind if I have another appetizer, would you?”
The metal mesh of my dress sticks to my thighs as I instinctively attempt to spread my legs. “I’d never deny you another appetizer, Brett. On one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“I want to come.”
EPISODE 45
GETTING TO KNOW YOU
Ariel
As we stand on the veranda outside the front of the mansion, Alex kisses me slowly like he did before. A simple sliding of lips and tongues together. I touch his cheek, scrape my fingers over his stubble. He groans into my mouth, making me shudder.
The kiss deepens, and sparks shoot through me as he holds me tighter.
Against every instinct, I break away.
“Ariel? You okay?” His eyes are wide beneath his glasses.
I nod. “More than okay. I just want to get farther away from the house.”
“Of course. I understand.” He takes my hand, and together we walk off the veranda and onto the lush green grass.
Flowers—red, yellow, pink, and white—frame the lawn, and of course in front of us the white sands and the blue ocean glitter against the setting sun. Palm fronds sway gently in the warm evening breeze and cast speckled shadows over a stone pathway leading to the sea.
I tug Alex toward one of the gardens. “Do you know what these are?” I ask, gesturing to the small white flowers that look kind of like the pinwheels I used to get during our Independence Day celebrations back home when I was a kid.
He walks toward the flowers, picks one, and brings it to his nose. “Mmm. Jasmine. Here.” He pulls me toward him and slides the small stem behind my ear. Then he picks another and hands it to me.
I bring it to my face and inhale. It’s sweet, almost like raspberry honey drizzled over the gardenias in Mama’s small flower garden.
“You like?” Alex asks.
“Yeah. It smells...perfect.”
“It also looks perfect against your beautiful hair.” He trails a finger over my cheek. “Want to walk down to the beach?”