“Why a dick blog?” She looks genuinely curious. And she deserves the truth, even if it is stupid.
“Drew dared me. He said I was moping too much after my last relationship, and he wasn’t gonna let me off the hook until some woman saw my junk. He bet me that I couldn’t get someone to see it, and he gave me a week. I wasn’t in any mood for a random bar pick-up, so I figured I’d just put it online. Then some woman would see it, and I’d win the bet.”
Her face is blank. “That was the bet. Some woman had to see it?”
I nod.
“Wow. You guys are sophisticated.”
I snort-laugh. “I know. Not at all.”
“The design is so elegant, though.”
“Thank you. I like things to look nice.”
“And why put your dick in with buildings?”
“I don’t really know. I guess I wanted to do my own take on a dick pic. I mean, I assume that most dick pictures are nasty. I wanted to do something entertaining but beautiful. I wanted it to be art.”
She gives me a half smile. “You’re a little meticulous, Mister I-make-five-dildos-but-you-come-first.”
“You complaining?”
“Not in the slightest.”
I trail my fingers down her arm. She gets goosebumps, and I reach down to take her hand. Looking at it, she says quietly, “I’m not sure we should hold hands when we go out. Not if we want to see where this goes.”
I stiffen as a knot forms in my gut. “What are you talking about?” This can’t be good. Here I am, wondering how much time I can spend with her, and she’s worried about holding hands.
“When we went to my place to feed Chauncey and get clothes. You held my hand in the park. Anyone could’ve seen us. I know I’m probably being ridiculous, but I need a little time to process everything so I can figure out how to talk to my boss. I can’t exactly waltz into his office Monday morning and tell him I have a huge crush on my new client, and we’ve been banging like bunnies since the night he probably learned you were engaged to the daughter of a family friend.”
Well, hell. When she says it like that.
“I guess you’re right.” Goddamn it. Why does every road always lead back to Tiffany?
I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize Evie’s career. I just want to have a normal relationship without other people interfering for once.
Sighing, I nod. “I’ll do it for you.”
She stares at me a moment, and I see relief in her eyes, but also concern. “You need to know what this means. Because when we do disclose our relationship, we’ll need to reassign your case to someone else at the firm. Are you ready to take that step? Are you ready to divulge the connection to your blog to someone else at WGA?”
Rubbing my forehead, I sigh. “Fuck. I don’t want to think about that right now.” I really fucking don’t. “Let’s enjoy this. Figure us out. Worry about all that shit later.” Wrapping her in my arms, I smile when she melts against me.
“Thank you for understanding. I want… I want this to work.” She presses a delicate kiss to my lips that erases my irritation for how complicated this got so fast. I need that reminder. It’s just us. Our relationship might be new, but I’m old enough to know what I want, and I’m going to do whatever I can to show Evie I’m serious about her. Even if it means keeping this quiet for a little longer.
Wanting to forget about this conversation for a while, I reach for the memory card docked in my laptop. Slipping it back into the camera, I sit at the edge of the bed and gaze at this captivating woman. I want to remember how she looks, dark hair mussed, boobs filling out a thin tank top, curves of her hips on display. My heart grows as I study her, and before she can object, I snap a picture of her.
“No! Let me have that!” she shrieks.
Holding the camera out of her reach, I laugh, “Not on your life. You’re so goddamn sexy. If you’re not gonna be here every night, I need something to help.”
Embarrassment clouds her eyes. “I don’t look good naked,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.
What the hell is she talking about? “You look amazing naked.” Indecision and disbelief mars her gorgeous face. “Let me prove it to you.”
I pull her to me, but when she sees the photo on the screen of the camera, she groans. “God, erase that.”
“You’re gorgeous. Those curves. Fucking love your body.” I’m at half-staff looking at a damn photo of her.
She doesn’t look convinced.
I set the camera on top of the laptop and climb over her thighs, straddling her. She looks embarrassed and interested and turned on at the same time. “You are real.”
“That’s another word for heavy.”
Again, what the fuck? “Not at all. I mean it. You’re real. No implants. No starvation. No desperate look because you’re hungry all the time.” My eyes travel over her body. “Evie, I swear your curves are fucking hot. No man wants to curl up with a twig. Everything about you is genuine, and that is so refreshing. Swear to God, I can’t get enough of you.”
She glances down, a blush tinting her fair skin. “I’ve never thought of myself that way,” she admits. “When I was growing up, it was just me and my dad. And, well, he wasn’t great at teaching me how to use mascara. Our talk about periods? I still cringe. So I’ve never really felt good in my skin. I’ve always felt like I didn’t measure up to the stylish girls.”
“Those stylish girls? They don’t have what you have.”
She still looks skeptical.
But I continue, and I decide to go there.
I reposition myself, lying on top of her, holding myself up with my elbows, my legs between hers. “You asked me before about Tiffany.” She nods, our faces inches apart. “It was practically an arranged marriage. Her family and mine are like neighboring feudal lords. So it was expected that I, the youngest, would marry her to join the families. Thing is, I wanted to. I didn’t see her bleached hair and the designer clothes—I saw a shared history and, I don’t know, I guess my destiny. Now I know I was just brainwashed by my family to believe this was what I should do. But the wakeup call was finding out she cheated on me.”
Evie’s brow furrows. “That sucks. I remember you told me about that the night of the gala.”
I shrug. “It’s in the past. I’m over it. My family doesn’t know why we broke up. They just want us to get back together.” I pause to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. “But I’m over the fake. I’m over what’s expected of me. I am totally and utterly into a stunning brunette with bombshell curves and a brain that’s off the charts. She makes me crazy. See?” I press my growing erection onto her.
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and she says, “If you don’t watch it, you really are gonna make me feel sexy.” And then in a quieter voice. “No one ever has before.”
How is that even possible?