22
" I head to the bathroom. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and try to put the evening behind me. Look, it’s not hard to turn down a drunk girl, because that’s just wrong. But it was hard, for some unknown fucking reason, to turn down her. Those things she was saying. Those wicked, dirty words falling from her red lips. They torched a path up my body. They stirred something inside me. Some wish. Some want.
That kiss on the street was one thing.
The session on her couch was entirely another.
But the cab was a whole new wrinkle. She just combusted, like a rocket of lust, firing off in every direction, jumping me, climbing me, grinding on me.
I wanted it all.
I wanted her.
I still do. "
― Lauren Blakely , Big Rock (Big Rock, #1)
32
" When I open my eyes, Fido is at the foot of my bed, licking his paw. He drags it over his furry face, then behind his ear. He stops his post-meal bath to stare at me, a disdainful look in his beady yellow eyes.
This is the end to my Saturday night. My cat has watched me whack off to a vision of my best friend.
“Don’t say a word,” I hiss.
He looks away, lifting his chin haughtily.
But he’ll keep my secret.
I’ll keep his, too, the fucking little voyeur. "
― Lauren Blakely , Big Rock (Big Rock, #1)
33
" Charlotte!” he calls out, waving to her. “Did you get the balloons?”
He pulls up next to us, barely making eye contact with me.
“They didn’t fit in the elevator, but it really doesn’t matter. You need to stop sending me gifts. It’s over with us. In fact,” she says, and reaches out to grab my free hand, threading her fingers through mine and surprising the fuck out of me, since she’s not a hand-holder, “I’m engaged to Spencer now.”
Whoa.
That surprise over her holding my hand? It’s nothing compared to the surprise from what comes next.
She thrusts her coffee cup at Bradley, and in the blink of an eye she wraps her hands around my neck, and presses her lips to mine. "
― Lauren Blakely , Big Rock (Big Rock, #1)
35
" I set down the picture, inhale deeply, and straighten my shoulders. The door creaks open. She steps out of the bathroom wearing only a white fluffy towel wrapped above her breasts.
“You might be wondering why I asked you to wait in my bedroom instead of the living room,” she says, in the most matter-of-fact of tones.
I have no clue how she can be talking like we’re having a business transaction while droplets of water slide down her bare legs. But I’m a strong man. I can handle this. I’m not tempted at all by my best friend. My dick, however, begs to differ, the traitorous prick.
“The thought crossed my mind,” I say, as I lean against the bureau, striking a casual pose.
“Because if you’re my fiancé, you need to be comfortable with me being naked,” she says with a crisp nod.
Shit, she’s going to do it. She’s going to drop the towel. She’s going to make us practice fucking. I am the luckiest man on the face of the earth. "
― Lauren Blakely , Big Rock (Big Rock, #1)