Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I study her face for a moment, taking in the heavy makeup she’s still wearing and the fact her hair looks as perfect as it did when the evening first started. I’m guessing that’s the miracle of hair spray at work. My gaze cuts down to her breasts, which are so huge they look like giant balloons. They’re also overly firm, which attests to the large amount of fluid her plastic surgeon used to fill her implants.
“Actually,” I tell her gently, “how about we get you dressed and I’ll get you back home. I’m ready to call it a night.”
“But I thought I’d stay all night,” she pouts with her lower lip stuck way too far out for a grown woman.
Hell, I’d thought she’d stay all night too.
But I’m not feeling it now, even with a ball gag. My dick has zero interest right now. Screaming Barbie just isn’t doing it for me anymore tonight.
Chapter 2
Josie
TWO WEEKS LATER…
I settle back into my poolside lounge chair, and with a sigh I close my eyes. I came off a hellacious shift at the hospital, and some rest and relaxation at our neighborhood pool is just the ticket. The town home I bought is swank, and my first real use of the type of money an ER doctor can make. It’s in a gated community and there’s hardly anyone here during the weekday, so I try to take advantage of it as much as I can.
The relaxation lasts for all of about three minutes before I can feel something blocking out the hot June sun on my skin. I crack an eye and see the outline of a tall, well-built man standing over me with rays of sunshine shooting out in all directions from the edges.
“These chairs taken?” I hear Reed’s voice and I crack the other eye open.
Sitting up, I hold my hand over my eyes to block the sun a little, and his face comes into focus. He points to the two chairs beside me and raises an eyebrow.
“Um…no,” I say hesitantly, and then sweep my gaze around the pool. There’s only a handful of people here and probably two dozen chairs open and available spread around.
“Cool,” he says as he throws a towel down on the chair nearest to me, and another towel on the one next to it. “Got a friend joining me. She’s still in the house doing whatever it is girls do to get ready to go to the pool.”
“Let me guess,” I say dryly as I nod to the chairs. “Blond hair, stacked, and wearing a string bikini?”
Reed grins down at me a moment before taking the chair next to me. “You shouldn’t stereotype.”
“You have a type,” I say as I shrug and then lie back down again.
“A type?”
Rolling my head, I put my hand back to my forehead to shield the sun so I can look at him. “Yeah…a type. You have it bad for Barbie.”
His grin doesn’t lessen and there’s amusement in his eyes. “Oh, enlighten me then.”
“I already did,” I quip, and then repeat. “Blond, tall, big boobs.”
“How would you know that?” he asks, still highly amused with me.
“Because I’m a trained ER doctor and I’ve got amazing powers of observation,” I reply lightly. “Since meeting you two weeks ago when I had to ask you to muzzle Screaming Barbie, I’ve seen a revolving door of them. Let’s see…there was Carbie Barbie, who was so skinny I bet she only eats lettuce. And then Fashionista Barbie, who looked like she walked off the pages of Vogue, and then—”
“You have something against fashion?” he interrupts me.
“When you wear scrubs as your basic outfit, it’s just not that important to me.”
“Okay,” he says as he nods at me solemnly. “That’s Carbie Barbie and Fashionista Barbie. Who else?”
“Well, that’s all I saw, but I’m sure there were others. I’ve never seen the same one twice.”
“You’re totally sort of stalkerish,” Reed points out.
I snort in return. “Puh-leeze.”
“Now that the Barbie conversation is over,” he says as he leans back into his chair, propping his feet up on the bottom, “tell me more about what you do.”
Rolling my head back, I close my eyes against the sun but continue the conversation. “Let’s see. Went to medical school and residency at Duke, and now I’m at Raleigh Memorial Hospital.”
“Where are you from originally?” he asks, and I can tell by the lazy drawl to his voice he’s probably got his eyes closed in relaxation as well while we talk.
“California,” I tell him. “How about you?”
“Minnesota,” he replies. “Tell me something unusual about yourself.”
I can’t help the involuntary curve of my lips. Here this guy—and let me clarify, an insanely gorgeous and well-built guy who has loud, passionate sex next door to me—is asking me about my personal life.
Weird.
“I’m addicted to puzzles,” I tell him. “I’ve always got one going on my kitchen table.”