Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
This is so freaking boyfriend material, I can’t stand it. Only, I so can.
When we reach the hot tub, we drop our towels, then Owen goes first, and, as I scramble in too, I watch him like the perviest hawk in existence. His Greek god-like frame sinks into the water, his sculpted ass disappearing first, then his back—mmm, yes, I want my hands on that back when he’s under me. He spreads his arms behind him, and tips his forehead to the spot by his side. I scoot right next to him, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Are you really cold, River?”
“I told you. I’m like a jungle cat. I’m not equipped for this kind of brutal weather.”
“But the hot tub is nice and toasty, isn’t it?”
“It’s like swimming at the equator,” I say as the heat of the bubbles and the water slide over my skin even as my face remains cold. But the effect works. I’m warmed up in a few seconds. It doesn’t hurt that he shifts toward me, rubs my shoulders, then drops a kiss to my nose.
My pulse surges, and my heart squeezes at the same time. He’s doing all sorts of things to my insides. Making my organs jump around.
“You’re awfully affectionate,” I say.
He tenses, then lets go of me. “Do you not like it? Affection?”
I scoff. “Are you kidding me? I love it.”
Owen smiles, like I’ve stolen the sun for him, given it to him as a gift. “Good,” he says, then takes off his glasses and sets them on the edge of the tub. He closes his eyes, lifts his face to the night sky. Like that, with his eyes shut, I study his handsome features. Those lips I got to know intimately tonight. The strong lines of his jaw. His carved cheekbones. Those eyes that see inside me.
“How long have you worn glasses?” I blurt out.
His eyes fly open. “Since I was four,” he says.
The image of a young Owen in glasses is almost too much for me to handle. “You must’ve looked adorable.”
“Yeah, I looked fantastic. A near-sighted kid who could barely see a thing, tripping all over in his own house, needing glasses at a ridiculously young age.”
“Can you see without them at all?” I ask, suddenly eager to gobble up every last fact about Owen Hayes. I’m desperate to know him better, to hear the secrets no one else is privy to. I want him to share the hidden corners of his heart and mind just with me.
“A little. Everything’s kind of blurry that’s more than a few feet away,” he says, squinting as he stares in the distance at the hills coated in snow. “All I see is a canvas of white.”
“But you took them off during sex,” I say.
Owen swings his gaze to me. “Well, you’re close now and you were pretty close then, River. I was able to see all of you and I was definitely able to get a good visual on your dick.” He slides a hand along my thigh under the water, grabbing my leg. “My, what a big cock you have, dear. This is your cock, right?”
“Yes, you got my third leg,” I say, then his hand sneaks between my thighs, and he gives my dick a squeeze. “Ah, got it now.”
Owen lets go, but I’m not satisfied. I’m ravenous for every last bit of info. “Do you ever leave your glasses on during sex? Would you? Or is it the sock rule?”
His lips curve into a curious grin. “Well, do my glasses destroy your erection?”
I shake my head. “The opposite. They enhance it.”
“Do you have a glasses fetish, River?”
“No, I just think they’re super-hot. But evidently, I find everything about you super-hot,” I say, waving a hand at him.
“Is that so?” He sounds thoroughly delighted.
“Yes,” I say, no teasing, no flirting. Just the plain truth. “Though, honestly, I always knew you were gorgeous. But apparently, I’m just realizing tonight how attracted I am to you. It’s kind of hitting me hard, and all at once.”
“Thank you,” Owen says, then parts his lips like he’s going to say more, but instead, he just adds another “Thank you.”
He sounds grateful, but now I wonder—do I sound like I only want the physical with him? Like I’m simply objectifying him for the way he looks? Like a hot, built, Clark Kent lookalike I want to bang?
Ugh. It does sound that way. Even though that’s not the full truth. I want to bang, kiss, and cuddle him.
Then see him again tomorrow.
This is why it’s so hard to mess around with a friend. Do I talk to Owen like any other guy I’m dating? Do I ask if he’d consider me as boyfriend material?
But on the other hand, if he says yes, am I truly ready for the risk?