Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Her and that leather skirt haunt my dreams.
Knocking on the door, I expect to see her friend answer, but what I didn’t expect was to see Lottie in nothing but a swimsuit and a large smile—until she sees me, that is. The smile drops, and her face turns to instant anger. Looking past her to the inside of the apartment, I see no one but her.
Lottie has her phone in hand, and she lifts it to her ear and speaks. “My future asshole husband is here. Have to go.” She hangs up, letting the phone drop back to her side. “What do you want?”
“You haven’t called.” She shrugs. “Do you want me to come with you to tell your parents?” I ask, trying not to become angry at her complete and utter disrespect toward me. Though, I guess I’m not entitled to any respect, but nevertheless, it still makes me mad.
“You look pissed off, Whiskey. Why are you the one who’s mad?” Lottie drops her hand to her hip, her very naked hip, and I try my hardest to not look down at her breasts. Those tits are so fucking perfect. I want to touch and lick every inch of her gorgeous, tattooed skin. Fuck! I need to get laid.
I crack my neck before I answer her, trying to avoid looking but failing miserably. My patience is wearing thin. “Next week is the engagement party.” I look to her hand to see the ring is missing from her finger. “And you aren’t wearing the ring.”
She smiles. “No. No, I am not.” Lottie turns and walks away, so I get the perfect view of her fine ass. “I know you’re staring at my ass again, Whiskey. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She flips her hair to the side when she looks back over her shoulder at me. Then she winks and disappears into a room. When she steps out, she has the box in hand.
“What’s this for?” I take it from her.
“Drop down on one knee and propose to me, Whiskey. And mean it.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say while shaking my head slowly.
“Nope! Still waiting.” She taps her foot impatiently. “I see this as”—she drops her head to one side and smiles—“you want something, so why can’t I get something out of it as well? Drop to your knee and propose to me. If I’m getting married, I want a story to tell.” Lottie then shuts the door in my face, and it takes everything in me to not kick that fucking door back open. Fuck! This woman is infuriating.
Choices—there are three.
I could call her bluff and walk away.
I could smash the door open and demand she wear it right now.
Or I could do as she asks and drop to one knee and propose to her like she’s asking.
I didn’t really propose to my ex, it was more of a let’s get married. What Lottie is asking for is something I’ve never done before.
I weigh all the options, which one would be better, and why.
For fuck’s sake, her option seems to be the easiest and least painful of the three, though I have no idea how to propose. Dropping to one knee, I hold the ring box open and knock on the door. When she opens it, she’s wearing a dress, but I can still see her bikini underneath it.
“Lottie Snow, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
“Why do you want to marry me?” she asks, smiling.
I’m about to tell her why, when I push the words back down and tell her what she wants to hear. “I want you to make me happy, and in marrying you, it will make me very happy.”
Lottie rolls her eyes. “I guess that’s as good as I’ll get it.” She then flings her hand toward me. Taking the ring out of the box, I reach for her hand, taking it in mine and sliding the diamond on her finger. Once it’s on, I look up at her to see her watching me intently.
“You should kiss me now.”
I’m stunned by her words.
I didn’t expect them.
“Joking.” She laughs so hard she bends over. “I was joking.” Then just like that, she rolls her eyes, steps back, and shuts the door in my face again.
CHAPTER 9
LOTTIE
Today’s the day. The day I’m expected to tell my parents I’m marrying an asshole, and at that, one of my father’s friends. A man who I’ve known––and had a crush on–– since I was seventeen. The same man who is blackmailing me with a sex tape. I’m definitely leaving that last bit of information out.
They can’t know that.
Even though I know if I did tell them, I could easily get out of this.
My father’s reputation has to be squeaky clean, and a sex tape of his daughter, yeah, that would soil his standing in the community. And we can’t have that. So, I have to go along with this.