Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“I think she was going to push us out if we didn’t go willingly.” I lean against his arm, partly for support, partly for warmth after the rain. “But it’s nice having a minute to breathe, isn’t it?”
Silence falls between us as he nods, but it’s not awkward like before.
When he stops behaving like a fire-breathing grouch, he’s not that hard to talk to.
With most people, you’re always looking for something to say, but Dex seems as comfortable in the silence as I am.
I set my wineglass on the patio table next to us.
“Tell me something,” I say, the alcohol making me bold.
“Yeah?” He gives me a suspicious glance.
“Why aren’t you married already? Or you know, at least keeping busy with a harem of models. I saw your brother has a kid. Isn’t that what most rich guys do?”
“Archer’s not with anyone now. His life is complicated.” He turns and gives me his full attention, a grimly amused smile playing on his lips. “And what the hell would you know about what rich men do, Sweet Stuff?”
Again, that dumb nickname.
My cheeks are redder than cardinals.
“I dunno.” I wave a clumsy hand. “It’s just, you work all the time, but you must have women chasing you. Especially when you’re young and hot.”
“I’m young and hot now? Big praise from a woman who hates my ass. Better watch your mouth.” He raises an eyebrow.
Oh my God. My big mouth is finally working its magic, just delayed.
“No, don’t take it back,” he says, catching my wrist as I wave it in the air too close to his face. “I like it.”
“I’m embarrassed now.”
“Don’t be, Junie. You worry too damn much.” He looks back at my face with the same hunger in his eyes I saw at the office. “Gun to my head—and you’ve got one there now—I think you’re younger and hotter than hell,” he growls.
His other hand drops to my waist to steady me.
I roll my eyes pathetically. I’m definitely verging on drunk, yes, but not that drunk.
I’m so not falling into the trap of thinking Dexter Rory finds me truly attractive.
“So tell me, Junie—why aren’t you seeing someone?”
“I’m just… I’m busy,” I tell him. “Don’t tell me, that’s your excuse, too?”
“Business is demanding as hell. Doesn’t leave much time for anything else when you’re fighting for every dollar and scraping to keep your head above water.”
How generous that he thought of my situation when we’re worlds apart.
“Yeah. Guess we’re not that different sometimes.” I lean in closer as he slides an arm around my waist and I whisper, “Of course, you’re filthy rich and I’m not.”
“Not yet.”
Dang. Even without the wine, he’d sound pretty freaking believable right now.
Over his shoulder, I see the curtains move.
Dexter glances back and I catch his chin in my hand, turning him gently to face me, stroking his short dark scruff.
“Look at me. Don’t let her know we know she’s spying on us!” I try to stop myself from smiling. This is beyond ridiculous. “We’re supposed to be a couple in love having a private moment, remember?”
Then it happens.
His big arm tightens, and his other hand brushes my face.
The blue fire in his eyes makes my stomach clench with anticipation, and warmth bathes my chest as he leans down, his breath flowering across my lips.
Yes, it’s just the alcohol—it needs to just be the wine—but I swear I’ve never wanted a man like this in my life.
And that’s a terrifying thought—but not half as scary as what he says next.
“Work with me, Sweet Stuff. We didn’t get this far just to half-ass the grand finale. Let’s give Granny a show that’ll keep her old heart going.”
I don’t know what he means.
Not until he pulls me in.
Until I wrap my arms around his neck and we’re mouth to mouth.
Until his hand slides through my hair, his fingers tangling with a claiming pull, and he kisses me with what feels like the weight of his entire soul.
10
SWEET CHAOS (DEXTER)
Goddammit, where is my mind?
Apparently, stuck on one fact that’s going to throw me deeper into the abyss I’m already tumbling down.
Juniper Winkley tastes fucking divine.
She might be the first sweet thing I’ve ever had that I don’t instantly hate.
It’s the subtle wine on her tongue, the lingering sweetness of the chocolate, the delicate flutter of her moan.
She’s like a wet dream come true, soft and pliable in my arms, her mouth moving against mine with the same hunger flowing in my veins.
I didn’t know how much I wanted her until this moment.
Women aren’t my normal weakness.
I’ve never met a girl who dominates every sense the way Juniper does. She drags her nails through my hair and pulls me closer to my self-destruction—and dammit, I want her to.
What I really want is to carry her to the house, throw her against the wall, and explore every lush curve and smooth line of her body until her whimpers come like music.