Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Fine,” he grumbles, “but just so you know, I’m going to redeem some of those tonight.”
I lean over. “Be careful, because once they are redeemed, they won’t come around again.”
He pulls me to him, smashing his lips down on mine. “I think it’s safe to say that I’ll take my chances.” He kisses me softly. “Thank you for the gift, baby.”
Twenty-Four
Nash
I hear the car pull up in the driveway and put down my laptop, walking to the front door. I look outside to see Zoey get out of the car and walk over to the trunk, grabbing two big canvas bags in her hands. I unlock the door, and when she’s on the last step, I open the door. “Hey, baby,” I greet her, reaching out for the bags she’s carrying. “What is all this?” I look down at the bags in my hands.
“Well,” she starts, stepping into the house after me and shutting the door behind her, “since you surprised me yesterday.” I make my way from the front door to the kitchen. “I thought I would surprise you today.” I pass the wall where I hung both our paintings from last night. I did it the first thing this morning when I got up and out of bed. While she made us breakfast tacos, naked. She told me not to because she said the trees looked sad, but I refused to be talked out of it. She shook her head and told me she was heading out.
“But you gave me the best present I’ve ever gotten in my whole life.” I wink at her, mentioning the coupon book I might have to lock in the safe to make sure it doesn’t go missing.
“That was something I made as a joke.” She laughs.
“Pick any hole is not a joke and will never be.” I put my hands on my hips, my voice tight.
I peek in the bags. “Ooh, did you get some crotchless panties?” I ask over my shoulder.
“Of course, it was the first thing on my list,” she deadpans, and I stop in my tracks. “I’m joking.”
“One never jokes about crotchless panties, Zoey.” I put the bags on the counter, then look in them. “What is all this?”
“This is a game.” She walks around the counter to stand next to me. “It’s called get to know your partner.” She reaches into the bag and takes out the two small whiteboards she got. “We each ask each other questions and write them down to see how well we know each other.”
“Oh, you know what would make this even better?” I ask, reaching into one of the bags and taking the dry-erase markers out of it. “Doing it naked-style. If you get the wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing.”
“So strip get to know your partner?”
“Yes.” I nod as if I just invented a new game. “We should play right now.” I grab the two whiteboards in my hands and walk toward the living room. “Grab the markers and let’s get this game going.” She laughs as she follows me. “Should we move the table out of the way and play on the floor?” I wonder if we need more space to spread out once I get her naked.
“We don’t need all that room.” She sits in one corner of the couch. “Actually, I’ll sit in this corner, and you sit in that corner.” She points at the other side of the couch, and I glare at her as I hand her a whiteboard and walk over to the other side.
“And the more naked you get, the closer you get to the other person.” I make up the rule as she tosses me the markers. “I like this game already.”
“You can’t cheat,” she warns me, and I gasp. “Like you have to answer truthfully.”
“Baby.” I chuckle. “You should know I play to win”—I wink at her—“at every-fucking-thing.”
“Good. I’ll go first.” I grab a marker out of the pack.“What's your partner’s favorite color?” I look down at the board and write purple on it. “Okay, what did you answer?” When I tell her the answer, she’s shocked that I knew this. “Yours is blue.”
“Shit,” I swear when it’s right. “I mean, technically, my new favorite color is nude.”
“Next question.” She ignores me. “How do they take their coffee?”
“That’s easy,” I say, “she likes to drink grass.” She also gets it right. “Can we get to the naked part yet?”
“This should get you to lose a piece of clothing.” She smirks. “What’s your favorite book?”
“I don’t have a favorite book,” I tell her. “So how about, what’s your favorite genre of book.”
“Fine,” she concedes. “What did you answer?”
“Romance.” I look at her and see she’s shocked. “You?”
“Sex stories,” she replies, and I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“You aren’t wrong, but I’m more of a mysteries type of guy,” I tell her, and she turns the whiteboard over for me to see that she wrote mysteries. “How did you—”