Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
“Hey,” I whisper, leaning over and stroking my fingers over the back of his hand. “Is it true, what they show on TV? About what people get up to in back seats?”
Finn smirks. “You may have watched too many teen movies,” he says. “But then again, I suppose it can’t be unheard of. Someone somewhere must have done it. But with someone else watching? Worse than that, an employee? I think that probably constitutes workplace harassment.”
I stifle a giggle, even though he might have ruined my romantic image – it’s funny to hear him point out the reality of a situation that I hadn’t really properly considered. “I didn’t think of that,” I whisper back. “Poor Bernard.”
“Well, maybe not so poor in this case, since he’d get to take a look at your body,” Finn says. He leans over and kisses my neck, sending a shudder running down my spine. “Which is something to be envious of indeed. In fact, I can hardly wait to get a full look at it, myself.”
“Wait – are you saying you want to…?” I ask, running hot under the collar as Finn’s breath tickles my neck. God, I want to. I don’t even care who sees. One touch of his kiss on my skin and I go completely crazy. I’ll do whatever he wants me to.
Finn draws back with a twinkle in his eye, leaving me pouting. “Not yet,” he says. “There’s plenty of time for that, believe me. And we don’t have to do it with an audience. Unless, you discover you like that kind of thing – in which case we can discuss it in a mature and adult setting, as is appropriate.”
I roll my eyes at him with a grin. “Fine, fine. This better be worth it, Finn. I hope you have a good reason to leave me wanting more.”
“Oh, I do,” Finn, says, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss it before clasping it on the seat between us. “Believe me, you’re going to be glad we waited. After all, we have the whole weekend. Why rush into the main event? We have all the time we need.”
“Alright,” I say, glad simply to be holding his hand for the time being. “I trust you.”
And, even though we got caught last time, I still do. I trust him. And I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us today and tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Finn
The town I booked for our stay is known for several things, one of which is being obscenely expensive. Everything here is overpriced, from the rooms, the restaurant to the designer clothing stores on Main Street.
But the quality of the experience you get more than makes up for that. From the concierge who takes our bags for us – simply those and not ourselves, because we have some more stops to make before we come back to explore the room – to the uniformed helpers at seemingly every turn, even out on the street, this town was made for people with money.
Which is why it’s a good thing I have a lot of it.
I’m not intending to keep any of it back today, either. I reach out for Candy’s hand and put it over my arm, so I can escort her as we stroll down the main street, looking at the designer boutiques on either side of the road.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her. “My treat. You can pick out anything.”
Candy blushes. “Oh, no,” she says. “I couldn’t ask you to pay for that.”
I give her a look. “You’re not asking. I’m offering. So, come on. What do you want to try?”
Candy looks down at the floor, the redness in her cheeks intensifying. “I can’t,” she says again.
“Yes, you can,” I tell her. “How about here?” I point to the next store, home to an expensive Italian couture brand with a famous name.
Candy shakes her head silently. I pause, realizing that she actually looks more upset than embarrassed, and draw her aside so I can look into her face. “What is it?”
“Those places…” Candy bites her lip, unable to look me in the eye. “They don’t sell clothes in the right size for girls like me.”
Ah. That’s what the problem is? I smile, trying to show her that there’s nothing to be afraid of. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “You think all of their clients are only stick insects? Rich people can eat, too. They have more sizes than you would think.”
“I don’t know,” Candy says.
I hesitate. I can understand why she might not want to risk it when she would feel very embarrassed to be caught out if there was nothing in her size. But I think I know a way I can stop that from happening. “There’s a store at the end of the street,” I tell her. “Bigger than these. It does menswear and womenswear, covering a number of different brands. I’ve been there for clothing from time to time since they cater to all shapes and sizes.”