Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I scoff as he unlocks the door and waves me in. “To be honest, I’m not sure you can handle it.”
He scoffs right back. “You’ve got no idea, babe.”
“Does babe really have to be a thing?” I ask, walking into the foyer and coming to a standstill to take it all in. “Holy mother of sweet baby Jesus. You know what? Fuck it. You can call me whatever you like.”
Zeph laughs and indicates with a tilt of his head to follow him. “Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
He shows me the whole property. The three living spaces, the upstairs bedrooms, and out to the pool and entertaining areas. By the time we’re walking back inside, nearly an hour has passed, and the sun is just starting to make its descent. But one thing is for sure, this house is so much more than I originally thought. Call me a sucker for interior design and architecture. If I didn’t go into psychology, that would have been my plan B. Or C. You know, right after I nailed the art of brazilian waxing.
We make our way into the open living room, and as I make myself comfortable on the oversized couch, Zeph walks over to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?” he asks, already placing two tumblers onto the counter.
“Oh sure. Just a vodka orange with ice,” I say as a weird whirring sounds discreetly through the house. “What’s that noise?”
“What noi—oh shit,” Zeph sighs, a sheepish expression crossing his face. “That’s my dad. I didn’t realize he’d be home so early.”
“Your dad?” I question as a wide smirk stretches across my lips. “And here I was thinking this was your place. You wouldn’t have been a naughty, naughty boy and lied to impress me, would you?”
“I, uhhh . . . I mean, if you want to be technical. I live here, so it’s still my place. My father just . . . maybe is the one who owns it.”
A snorted laugh tears out of me as Zephyr strides back with my drink, and I take a healthy sip before instantly choking on the vodka and making a mental note not to allow Zeph to make me a drink ever again. This boy likes his drinks strong. I mean, shit. I don’t think there’s any orange juice in here. Just straight vodka on the rocks.
“Awwwww, how sweet. Are you a little trust fund baby, trying to impress girls with Daddy’s money?”
Zeph grabs a cushion off the couch and launches it at my face, and I do what I can not to spill my drink all over the expensive material. “Shut up.”
I hear the sound of the internal garage door opening before the footfalls of Zeph’s father, and I won’t lie, I’m intrigued to see what his dad is like. I bet they’re exactly the same. Both tall, probably both handsome. The only difference would be that Zeph’s father would be a more serious version of his son.
“Zeph? That you?” I hear a deep, hypnotic voice calling through the massive house. “Didn’t realize you were coming home tonight.”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Zeph responds just as I turn my head over my shoulder and see the man in question step around the corner and send me into a tailspin.
No. No fucking way.
It couldn’t be.
My gaze sails over his father, taking in his graying thick hair, the stubble across his strong jaw, and the dark, intense eyes—eyes that watched me come apart in the most spectacular way.
It’s him.
The man from Vixen.
The very man who left me with such an intense need to be fucked within an inch of my life that I ended up screwing the first guy who offered in the middle of my psychology class—a guy that just so happens to be his son.
What in the ever-loving fuck? What are the chances?
My heart races in a way it never has before, and all I can do is stare at the man as he strides through his home. His gaze is locked on mine as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing, and honestly, neither can I.
He recovers a shitload faster than I ever could and tears his gaze away before focusing on his son. “I didn’t realize we had company tonight.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Zeph says. “I thought you’d be out. Tilly and I can head somewhere else.”
“Not at all,” he rumbles, that deep tone sending shockwaves right to the center of my core, reminding me just how intense he was at Vixen.
I squirm on the couch, my thighs clenching together, unable to control the wild need pulsing within my veins. His dark gaze swings back to me, and I see the silent challenge in his eyes, daring me to push him and take what he knows I really want. “Who am I to kick a beautiful woman out of my home? What do you say, Tilly? Why don’t you stay for dinner?”