He lets my protest go. “Come on. I’d like to see how I stack up to these fictional men. Come on, baby. Don’t leave us hanging,” he begs.
Holy guacamole. He’s killing me. I finally give in and bring the tablet up to resume reading, although my attention is certainly not on the words in front of me. How in the world am I so turned on? This guy has been spewing more innuendos than a confetti cannon at New Year’s, making me gag at his forwardness, yet suddenly, my juices are flowing while my mind is going places it shouldn’t.
Snapping out of it, I force myself to continue. Within seconds, I’m absorbed once more, naturally blocking everything around me. Only when I’m deep into the book, at the end ofthe scene,does something bring me back to the present—the real-life sex god beside me.
His lips are so close to my ear that his breath feels like velvet as he speaks, causing me to shiver. “He was good, but there’s room for improvement. If I were him, I would have—”
“Don’t. Please stop. I don’t want to know.”I don’t think my libido can take it.
“Are you sure about that? I think your body disagrees. In fact, I think it wants a demonstration.” In what seems like slow motion, his hand snakes over the armrest and lands on my leg, half on my skirt and half on my bare thigh. I watch but don’t register it in time to stop him.
My core clenches automatically, the traitor. But before he makes it any farther, I grab his hand firmly, only to have him tighten his grip.
“Good thing my body isn’t in charge and my mind is smart enough to steer clear of men like you,” I say through gritted teeth while warring over my reaction to him.
He leans over, and his voice drips out like maple syrup, slowand rich. “Men like me, huh? You mean men who know what they’re doing in the bedroom? Men who can please a woman and have her begging for more?”
My insides quiver, and I’m seriously torn between letting him roam higher or putting an end to this madness.
Sensing my hesitation, he continues. “Wouldn’t you like to experience what you’ve only read about up until now?”
The awareness of his words jolts me from my stupor, and I shove him away. He couldn’t know I’ve never done those things. He must be talking about the wild stuff they only put in books. The stuff that doesn’t happen in real life. At least… I don’t think it does.
“You’re the last guy on earth I’d want to experience anything with,” I say weakly.
He has the audacity to chuckle. “Keep telling yourself that, and your body might start to believe you.”
Ignoring his comment, our conversation dies, and we continue reading. We’re halfway through the final chapter when a jolt drags me back to reality. Pulling my phone out and turning it on, I text Cici that we’ve landed.
“How about we keep reading and be the last off,” he suggests.
“Someone’s waiting for me, so I can’t.” No use telling him it’s a driver picking me up and not my friends. But even so, I only have so much time before meeting everyone and still need to freshen up.
“How about until it gets to us, then?” He sounds desperate, so I take pity.
“Fine, but you’re getting my bag down.”
His smile once again does me in. “Of course I am.”
We finish the last page while we’re still five rows away from our turn.
“What the fuck? You can’t end a book like that. Is that legal?”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s called a cliffhanger. It’s no different than watching a TV series where they leave you guessing at the end of an episode.”
“Which is why I don’t watch anything until the whole series is out. So, what’s the next book?”
“There isn’t one yet. I think the release date is in January.”
“That’s bullshit. Not only do they make you buy the next book to finish this one, but you have to wait for it?”
I bite my lip from cracking a smile since he’s currently behaving like a toddler who’s being punished. It’s sort of adorable.
“It keeps people hooked. Hence, a series. You’re usually prepared going in. I was anyway.” I shrug.
“Well I fucking wasn’t. Now what?”
“Now you wait for the sequel.”
