Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Was Fred… attracted to me?
The very thought of it sent a weird little tingle up my arms. Of all the things I could think about, I’d genuinely never considered that it might be the case.
A dirty dream? Sure. Everyone had those, right? Brains were weird little things, and I could swear I’d even orgasmed in my sleep before.
But me? Fred? Attraction?
I brought my thumb to my mouth, trapping the tip of my nail between my teeth. I supposed it wasn’t completely insane. I wasn’t blind, nor was I a walking sack of unfeeling idiocy.
Fred was handsome.
He was extremely handsome.
If he weren’t my best friend, if we hadn’t grown up together, if we’d met at another time in another place, I might have been interested in him.
No, I would have been.
I would have wanted to ride him like a train.
Choo-choo-motherfucker until the fuel ran out.
Did I really not see him as a man?
No. I did. I knew he was a man. I saw it every time his shower coincided with me being awake, given his preference to wander around shirtless. Heck, I’d had one hell of an eyeful of his toned, strong, manly body just this morning.
Right.
Fred was a man.
Holy shit.
Fred. Was. A. Man.
A man.
With a working penis.
That might have been getting erect because of me first thing on a morning.
And this morning, I’d been wearing one of my skimpier sets of pyjamas and had crawled towards him. He’d told me to put on a bra.
Had he seen my tits?
My cheeks flamed, and I put my phone on my lap so I could cover my face with my hands. Oh, no.
How could I ever go home? I could never look him in the eye again. If he’d woken up a bit on the perky side this morning, what must he have felt when I’d crawled towards him like a cheesy extra in a noughties romcom movie?
It wasn’t even a good angle to peek at the girls. Leaning forwards without a bra… eeeeh. Every woman knew they kind of just… hung there… losing all their good shaping. There was no way that was an attractive look.
Jesus, what was I thinking? My boobs weren’t the issue here. Fred’s penis was. Then again, it wasn’t even like I could bring it up. How the hell did one even broach that subject?
What, was I going to ask over dinner? “Here’s the salt, Fred. By the way, do you pop a boner because of me every morning?”
No. Absolutely fucking not.
There was absolutely no way to ask anyone that question. Ever.
But how was I supposed to get an answer? Was I just meant to wake up before him and try to sneak a peek? Like, “Excuse me, don’t mind me, just seeing if you’ve got a stiffy before you take a shit!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fred was a man.
I was a woman.
He was attractive. I was apparently attractive.
We were married.
And Fred was a man.
What the hell was I supposed to do with that information?
20
* * *
DELILAH
“All right, that’s enough.” Fred slammed his hands on the bed and stared at me. “It’s been three days of this, Delilah. Three days of me waking up and you staring at my crotch like a gremlin is going to come crawling out of my ballsack.”
I pulled the covers up over the bottom half of my face to hide the reddening of my cheeks. “I’m not staring at your crotch!”
“Are you saying I’m imagining it?”
“You might be. Your thoughts can be a little out there, babykins.”
“Well, wife.” The extra intonation on ‘wife’ sent a little shiver down my spine as he leant closer to me. “I know I’m not imagining it. Why are you suddenly so interested in my genitals?”
I swallowed, scooting back against the headboard, still hiding behind the covers. “I… Uh… Um…”
“Delilah.”
“Frederick.”
“You have until the count of five before I rip that duvet away, pin you down, and tickle the answer out of you.”
A strangled noise left my throat, and I held the duvet as tightly as I could. “No, please.”
“One.”
“Um. Um.”
“Two.”
“A bug? There was a bug.”
“Three.” He edged closer to me.
“Fluff. Big chunk of fluff.”
“Four.” His voice was dangerously low, and a hint of a shadow passed through his usually bright eyes.
Oh, no. I’m in trouble.
“Five.”
I squealed as he pounced, ripping the duvet away from me with a swift tug. “Nooo!” I reached for it, but Fred was much faster than me. His extra height and strength gave him an advantage as he pushed me down onto the bed and straddled my hips, pinning my hands above my head.
He secured my wrists with one hand and brought his other to my waist. My pyjama top crept up my stomach, exposing my bare skin, and I flinched, momentarily squeezing my eyes shut as his fingertips brushed over me.
He peered down at me, his auburn hair hanging down and casting a shadow over his eyes. His shirtless torso towered over me, and I swallowed as my gaze inadvertently traced his body more than once.