like to be touched by his big, strong hands? I can’t help but blush when I imagine his lips running down my body. I shiver as I think of his deep voice whispering dirty words as he thrusts himself inside me.
In my experience, men fall into three categories, though there are plenty of subcategories. The one you fuck, the one you marry, and the one you friend zone. No, it’s not fuck, marry, or kill. But let’s be realistic. Friend-zoning a guy literally kills any chance to have sex with him—ever.
Mr. Billionaire Playboy falls into the fuck category. I’d love to say, “Where is your playground and will you be providing the condoms?”
The problem lies in my sister being madly in love with his brother. If I accept his open invitation and my sister ends up marrying Ford…this will become pretty awkward when our tryst is over.
Seriously, what if he turns out to be a major asshole? He could be lousy in bed. There’s a saying about too much bark and no bite. Does that apply to him?
“You’re overthinking,” he states. “My gut was right. You’re a good girl. You never skipped class, always obeyed your parents, and followed the rules. No, you actually enforce them, which is why you are a lawyer.”
“Are you about to crack lawyer-y jokes?”
He arches an eyebrow and crosses his corded arms. “Is that even a word? That’s a transgression against George and Charles Merriam. Is that allowed?”
“Look at you, throwing some useless knowledge my way to impress me,” I retort. “Why would you think I’m a good girl? Maybe I like to dress classy and underneath I’m wearing a lace bodysuit, a bustier, and maybe a garter belt.”
“That’d be a sweet treat. I’d love to unwrap you. I like my women naughty,” he says with a husky tone.
“No doubt you do. Shouldn’t you be at a bar fetching a woman for the night?”
He snickers “I’m more than what my bio says on Wikipedia or any other website you’ve been clicking through, sweetheart.”
I gasp, narrow my gaze, and ask, “What? Were you spying on me?”
He smirks “That’d be odd. No, that’s what I expect from… Let’s just say you’re predictable. You’re beautiful, but definitely not my type, and I apologize for coming on so strong.”
“Reverse psychology, nice,” I say and sigh. “Does it work?”
He blinks a couple of times and laughs. “Not today. I’m running out of lines. Cut the guy some slack.”
“A few years back this could’ve been the beginning of a beautiful train wreck, but I’m too old for this.”
He frowns. “I’d say you look twenty-five, but if you’re older than Persephone you should be around twenty-nine?”
“I turn thirty this December,” I announce. “Why do you know Persy’s age?”
“I have the bad habit of running a background check on everyone who gets too close to my brother,” he confides. “It’s nothing personal. Just a way to keep him safe.”
“But not you?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not some nerdy recluse. I’m more street smart, if that makes any sense. Which is why everyone who gets close to Ford has to sign an NDA.”
“Like I’d let my sister sign an NDA,” I laugh.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he’s not going to ask her to sign one—or any of you for that matter. Apparently, this is fucking serious.” He presses his lips together and looks out to the horizon. His voice comes out so harsh that Brock moves away from my lap and onto his.
“Irritating, isn’t it?” I joke. “People finding love and trusting each other.”
“Listen, I’m happy for him,” he states, standing up and pacing around the terrace. “I know from experience that relationships fuck you for life.”
I arch an eyebrow giving him my best inquisitive look and say, “Now we’re getting somewhere. What can you say about this dark past that makes you hate love?”
He makes a huff or maybe a snicker sound and shakes his head. “What’s your story, Nyx? Any particular reason why you don’t have a significant other?”
“Why are you assuming I’m single?”
“The predictability factor,” he continues nitpicking me. “If you were in a relationship, you’d be on the phone with your boyfriend, or girlfriend, talking about how much you miss them and describing the breathtaking view. During the conversation, they’d promise you to take you to New York during the fall.”
I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow. “Fall?”
“The view from here is even better. The orange and red foliage is unique. If those two love birds