Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
I don’t avert my gaze.
With a lazy wave, he disappears into the bathroom, and I go back to fixing myself a coffee, struggling to hide my grin.
A few moments later, he pokes his head out. I can hear the shower running. “Hey.” I love how gravelly his voice is in the morning.
“Hey.”
He crooks a finger, calling me to come. To take a shower with him, I gather.
My stomach tightens in anticipation. But I set my jaw and plaster my face with a mock frown instead.
His brow arches. “Really?”
“I’m busy.” Leaning against the counter with my coffee in hand, I sip away.
A slow, wicked smile curls his lips. He steps out and stalks toward me.
I stand up straight, my eyes flashing to the short hall leading to Connor’s room before turning back to Ronan in all his beautiful nakedness. “What are you doing?” I hiss.
He takes my cup from my grip. “I can’t wait until tonight. We’re either fucking in the shower, or right here in the kitchen. You have until I’m finished this coffee to decide where you want me to take you.” His free hand leisurely strokes over his length as he takes long gulps from my mug, his heated gaze on me.
I swallow. His words, the sight of him … Damn it. There’s no way I’m getting an ounce of schoolwork done with this on my mind. I want to be naked with him. I want him pressed against me, inside me. Right now.
With a shuddering sigh, I stroll toward the bathroom.
24. Ronan
“Wonder if there’ll be enough staffers to get some games going in Alaska,” Connor muses as I trail him through our condo building’s front door.
“In the forest?” I mock, wiping the sweat off my brow with my palm. I never would have guessed Frisbee tag took that much effort, but the way Connor’s league plays, I thought I was going to collapse on the field. It could be the nicotine tar in my lungs, though. “You can build a team with the human-sized mosquitos.”
The elevator doors open with a ding, and out steps Vera’s surgically enhanced breasts, followed by the rest of her. The first time I met the single, older lady, I’ll admit, I had a hard time focusing on her face, as pretty as it is.
“Boys!” She appraises our bare chests and soaked shorts. “What have you two been up to?”
Connor grins as he reaches out to hold the elevator door, showing off his ripped biceps. “You know us. Always looking for a good workout.”
Her eyes light up with heated interest. “You can find one of those at my place. Come by anytime. And you.” She sizes me up like, well, a cougar deciding where to start on its fresh kill. “I still need that light in my bedroom fixed.”
“Didn’t he fix that last weekend?” Connor muses.
Her brow pinches with confusion. “Last weekend …”
The elevator alarm screams at us.
I slip past them and jab the button for our floor. “I’ll come by next week to help you with that, ma’am.”
Connor releases his hold, blowing a kiss at her as the doors are closing. And then he turns to me. “Did you just ma’am Vera?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? My mother raised me to have manners.”
He chuckles. “Anyway, we’re not here next week.”
“Exactly. And the light in her bedroom is not broken.” That’s code for I’m going to break your dick sex if I’ve ever heard one.
“It’s not,” Connor agrees. “I fell for it and, bro …” He shakes his head. “That was a night. She pulled out a strap-on and—”
I hold up my hand. “’Nough said.”
The elevator doors open on our floor and we step out.
“Hey, if you weren’t with her last weekend after the club, where were you? I came to your room.”
Shit. “Went out for a smoke.”
“At two in the morning?”
I shrug. “I needed one, and you said I couldn’t smoke inside.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously while he digs for his keys. “You really need to quit that shit. It’s not good for you. And you missed out because of it.”
“Yeah, too bad.” With a smirk, I trail him in.
25. Ryan
Kyle is emptying his mailbox when I walk into our building on Wednesday night, struggling with my overloaded backpack. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hey, stranger.” He reaches for the strap. “Let me help you.”
Normally I’d decline the offer, but I’m too tired and it’s too heavy.
He grunts under the weight. “God, I don’t miss these days.”
“Trust me, I can’t wait until it’s over.” Do I really need my MBA?
He presses the button for the elevator. “It’s been four years since I graduated and I still sometimes wake up in a panic, thinking I’m late for an exam.”
“Is that what I have to look forward to?” Four years. That would make him around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, if I had to guess. Not that much older than me, but older. I like that.