Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
And then I ignored it.
Until the passenger next to me started having what I was sure were heart attack symptoms, and I asked the flight attendant to find me a doctor.
Dr. First Class came to save the day.
And then, after we landed and got the patient safely loaded into an ambulance, he simply held his hand out for mine as if it was the easiest, most normal thing in the world, and I took it.
Without a second thought, I slipped my palm against his, and we stayed that way for, like, an hour.
At least, it felt like an hour.
And now, I’m sharing a hotel room with him, and I’m sitting across from him at dinner, and this is starting to feel like a damn date.
With the sexiest man I’ve seen in, well, ever.
Holy muscles, Batman.
This man has plenty to bring to the gun show, let me tell you. His biceps bulge against the sleeves of the green Henley he’s wearing. I might spontaneously combust if I try to imagine what they look like in a scrub top.
And don’t even get me started on the sharp jawline, the dark hair, and the brown eyes with flecks of gold.
Did I mention the muscles?
So sue me, I’m attracted to men who work out. Probably because I share that interest. I work out. I eat okay, although I have a massive addiction to sugar, so I work out a little extra, and I’m blessed with a decent metabolism. Those genetics were the only good thing my parents ever gave me.
“Can I get you some dessert?” the server asks as she’s picking up our empty plates.
“Do you have pie?” I ask her. Even I can hear the desperation in my voice.
Not sorry.
“We have apple and pumpkin pie,” she says with a nod.
I bite my lip and catch Blake grinning at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t judge me for loving sugar more than anything on the planet.”
“More than anything?”
I ignore his question and turn to the server, who’s watching us with a grin. “I’ll have apple.”
“And I’ll have the other,” Blake jumps in, and I sigh in relief.
“Thank God. I’ll distract you and steal a bite.”
“No need to distract me.” He laughs.
“You two are adorable together,” the server says before walking away.
I blink rapidly and stare down at my hands.
What are you doing?
No flirting with the sexiest man alive, Harper.
Bad.
Bad girl.
“Harper.”
Why does his voice have to be deep and gravelly and make my nipples pucker? Stand down, nipples.
“Harper.”
“Sorry, I was daydreaming about pie.”
He smirks, but I can tell he doesn’t buy it.
The server returns way faster than I expected and sets both plates of pie on the table, but I put them both in the middle, making Blake’s eyebrows wing up.
“Do you hate apple pie?” I ask.
“No.”
“Then we’ll just share them. Because really, who can choose between these two on the day before Thanksgiving?”
I grab a clean fork and dig in, sit back, and sigh in happiness.
“Jesus,” he mutters, and when I open my eyes, he’s scowling.
“What?”
“You make some sexy fucking noises when you eat.”
I blink at him. What am I supposed to say to that?
Rather than try to think of something, I take another bite of pie and really work at not moaning.
Honest, I truly try.
But I can’t help it because that might be the best pumpkin pie I’ve ever eaten.
Blake clears his throat.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It’s not my fault. The pie is delicious.”
His jaw clenches. His dark eyes narrow on me.
And I clench my thighs because this look he’s giving me screams I want to fuck you right here on this table.
It’s damn satisfying.
And when we’re finished with the pie, I insist on paying for dinner.
“You promised,” I remind him when he looks like he wants to argue. “Don’t be that guy, Blake.”
“Which guy?”
“The one who makes empty promises.”
He shakes his head and lets me slip my card into the folder with the check. Once we’re all paid up, we walk back to the elevator.
He slips his hand in mine and weaves our fingers together as he hits the button for our floor.
The air is static. My heart is hammering, and I’m … hot. It’s been such a long time since I had sex, I don’t know if I even remember how.
But something tells me he knows.
I bite my lip as I watch the numbers climb above the door, and then they open, and Blake leads me down the hall, my hand still firmly in his.
He unlocks the door with the card and pushes it open. I step inside with him, then walk to the middle of the living room, turn to face him, and we spend ten seconds just staring.
It’s a silent conversation.
Can I touch you?
Yes.
Can I fuck you?
Please do.
It won’t happen just one time, Harper.
Thank God. Please get naked.
And then he’s on the move and crashes into me after three long strides. He frames my face, and his lips cover mine, and I am completely lost to him.