Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Was that what she wanted? To be brought to orgasm on a desk—No, you narcissist, it’s not about you. It’s about her character. It really fucking turned me on all the same. Reading that scene, it had been my fingers, her pussy, my desk, her heat.
My dick swelled. Of-fucking-course. I’d been semi-hard since I’d read that scene over Daisy’s shoulder last week. It had been a week since I’d realized exactly what her mind was capable of. A week that I’d spent lying awake, wondering if the scenes she wrote were from memory, a previous encounter with some guy I already fucking hated, or pure imagination.
Either way, I was strung as tight as a fucking drum over the brunette in the Reaper jersey, which had me feeling something I didn’t deal with often…confusion.
“Here you are,” Harper said, my little sister appearing at my side with a clipboard. “I came over for some signatures…” She faded off as stared at the ice, her lips parting.
“You came to ogle your fiancé,” I argued, taking the clipboard from her and scrawling my signatures over the appropriate lines. “Because you definitely could have sent one of your techs over with this. It’s not like you don’t have an entire lab of underlings to come get signatures for new equipment.”
“Right.” She bit her lower lip. “He really is something, isn’t he?”
“I’m glad you talked him into another season.” I signed the last page and handed the clipboard back to her. Nathan Noble was one of our best defenders, and the first player I’d signed when I’d secured the expansion team here in Charleston. He’d also been contemplating retirement. I’d stolen him away from the Sharks, along with Gage McPherson, who had turned out to be an even better coach than he had been a player.
“I do like the way that man moves.” She watched him with hungry eyes.
I cringed. “I do not need to know these things. You’re my sister.”
“One day, dear brother, you won’t be able to take your eyes off some woman, and I will recall this moment and give you endless heaps of shit over it.” She grinned.
Glancing over at Daisy, my stomach somersaulted. “And tell me, dear sister, when that day arrives, what kind of woman do you picture me with?”
“The kind of woman you won’t be able to take your eyes off? Or the kind of woman you picture yourself with? Because I think those are two different women,” she said with a little smirk.
“What do you mean by that?” I handed the clipboard back.
She glanced my way and rolled her eyes, then turned, realizing I was serious. “I mean, you have this picture of perfection when it comes to choosing your future spouse. You always have.”
My brow furrowed.
“Oh, come on, like you don’t know? Every woman you seriously date, and I don’t mean the ones you fuck and forget, I mean the ones you date, you pretty much put through an interview, and the second they don’t measure up to your perfect standards, you cut them loose. And the women you date are all. The. Same.” She put her hand on my arm. “They’re all blonde. They’re all doctors, or CEOs, or concert pianists. Your standards are higher than the Regency-era definition of accomplished. Every woman you date fits this…” She shook her head and looked away.
“Oh please, don’t stop now.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“I just want you to find the girl you can’t stop looking at. The one that makes you laugh, and drives you wild in frustration and…you know…in other ways.” She shrugged. “I hope that when you find said woman, you stop comparing her to the checklist you’ve created in your head because you’re going to miss out on someone spectacular that way.” She looked back at the ice. “I know I almost did.”
“You ever going to put that man out of his misery and marry him?”
She glanced at the engagement ring she’d been wearing for more years than I could count at this point. “We were discussing your flaws, not mine.”
“Uh huh.” I smiled down at her. “Not everyone is so lucky to find their other half like you did with Nate.”
She rose up on her toes and pecked my cheek. “You know, you’ve always said you would change the world if you met the right woman. But maybe you might need to look at changing just a tiny bit of yourself.”
“Me?” I scoffed in sarcasm. “I’m fucking perfect.” Harper was one of the only people in the world I didn’t have to be perfect for. After all, once someone has seen you sliding across the hardwood floor in your socks, then knocking out your two bottom teeth because you were desperate to beat your sisters to the ice cream, well…neither of my sisters thought I was perfect.