Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“You can open your eyes now,” Travis told her as he carried her into the living room. “I can’t believe that guy! What the fuck does he think he’s doing?”
“Um, you can set me down,” she told him as he started to pace back and forth with her in his arms. He didn’t seem to hear her, though, as he continued to walk while holding her. “And I think he was probably having a shower.”
“In my apartment! He has his own apartment. In this damn building! So why is he here showering in my spare bedroom? Now I’m going to have to fumigate before you can use the bathroom.”
“I haven’t got fleas, brother,” Tyler said as he walked out dressed in just a pair of jeans.
“You also seem to be allergic to wearing clothes,” Travis snapped at him.
“What? You said to put my dick away and I did!” Tyler walked over with a smile on his face and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.
An actual growl came from Travis. What was his problem? He was acting crazy right now.
Tyler didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s behavior, though. He straightened and winked at her.
“What’s up, Caren? Well, other than you. You going to let her down, brother? Or just carry her everywhere?”
“What? Oh, right. Sorry,” Travis muttered, carrying her over to the sofa and setting her down in the corner part so her legs lay out in front of her. “I’ll find you a blanket. Stay there. Don’t move.”
She let out a sigh. He was crazy. But he was also sweet.
Tyler moved to the kitchen. “Want a beer, Caren?”
“God, yes. Thank you.”
Tyler grinned at her as he returned with two beers.
“What about Travis?” she asked as he handed her one. He’d already taken off the tops.
“Oh, he doesn’t usually drink. Maybe a beer once in a while.”
But he had beer in the fridge?
“He keeps it here for us.” Tyler sat by her feet and leaned back, sipping at his beer. “So, what’s up?”
“Um, what’s up with you?” she asked in amusement.
“Not much, babe. I’ve got a bit of a situation in my apartment so I figured I’d come shower up here before I head to the club.”
“You’re going to a club tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah, Whip It, the BDSM club that Travis owns.” He continued to grin at her. “You ever been to a BDSM club, Caren?”
“Hmm, I went to the Twisted Thorn regularly when I lived in Dallas. And years ago, I belonged to one in London. It was called Club Slade.”
Tyler’s grin widened. “Nice. I had a feeling.”
He had? A feeling about what? That she was kinky? That she was a sub?
Travis walked back into the room holding a white blanket. He came to a sudden stop, glaring at them both. “Beer? Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with a beer?” Tyler asked. “It’s after five somewhere.”
“Aren’t you heading off to a shift at Whip It?” Travis asked.
“Yeah, but that’s not for another few hours.”
“Caren shouldn’t be drinking beer.”
Travis reached over to take her beer and she pulled it away from him.
“Give that to me,” he demanded.
“No!” she cried. “It’s my beer. Get your own.”
“I don’t want a damn beer. I want yours.”
He reached for it again and unfortunately as she drew it away, she jolted and it spilled.
“Oh no! Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” She jumped up from the sofa and the room spun slightly.
Then she was suddenly pulled into a firm chest, the beer taken from her hand. And the room spun for an entirely different reason.
Bugger it. She really, really liked being held by him. And she loved his scent . . . it was a mix of chocolate and spice and all things freaking nice.
She found herself melting against him.
“This is why you shouldn’t be drinking beer,” he muttered.
Oh bollocks! The spilled beer. He had a good point. Why was she so freaking clumsy?
“I’m so sorry, you’re right! Let me just clean it up.” She attempted to pull herself out of his hold, but he tightened his arms around her.
“Don’t care about a bit of spilled beer, Goldie,” he told her gruffly. “And Tyler will clean it up, not you.”
“That’s not fair. I spilled it.”
“He got it for you.”
“Don’t worry, Caren,” Tyler said. “I’m all over it. Oh, can I call you Goldie, too? Forgot Travis gave you that nickname years ago.”
She opened her mouth to reply yes, but Travis spoke first.
“No, you cannot,” Travis snapped.
Caren drew back to stare up at him. He really was being extra grouchy. Tyler whistled, walking back from the kitchen with a cloth.
“Good to know,” Tyler said as he cleaned up.
“Why can’t I have beer? Although I hope it doesn’t stain. I can pay for cleaning.”
“You won’t pay for anything,” Travis told her. “The couch is fine, it’s had worse done to it.”