AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Couple of places.” Wasn’t going to give it up for free. Woman still hadn’t kissed me. “Dress casual, and in something you aren’t worried about getting dirty in.”
“Got it. Shoes?”
“Flip-flops are fine.” Bailey lived in them.
“Give me twenty to shower and change.”
“Wait.” Frowning, I pointed to the shorts and top in her hand. “You’re missing a bikini?”
“Why would I need it?” That smirk on her lips made me want to bite it. Her. “You said dirty, not wet.”
The mouth on her. Had she always been so full of sass?
“No.”
Hand on her waist, she cocked her head to the side. “No? Then I see no need—”
“We both know that you’re soaking wet for me, and I plan on keeping you that way.” Closing the gap between us, I grasped her hips and pulled her to me. Chest to chest, I bent my knees, bringing my face down to her neck. Inhaled her sweet scent while skimming the shell of her ear. “Every day from here on out, I’ll keep you throbbing. Turn you into my perfect dirty girl.”
“Hunter,” she whimpered at my possessive touch but didn’t remove my hands, nor did she object to my promise. Instead, her head dropped forward and a shiver rocked her small frame.
“Look at me.”
She did. “Yeah?”
That dazed look in her eyes made me feel fifty feet tall. They were hooded and swimming with desire.
“Get that bikini in your bag.”
“What?”
Standing to full height, I reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m going to step out of this room and wait for you at the bottom of the stairs. Twenty minutes, or I drag you out as is.”
“Jerk.” Fuck, I wanted to eat that sweet pussy.
“Whatever you say, babe. That swimsuit better be in your bag.” Walking over to the door, I’d placed my hand on the knob when something caught my eye. There, at the center of her collage of pictures, was one of me. The one I’d left for her that Christmas.
It was from my graduation night and I was dressed to the nines. Bailey had called me handsome, and I’d thought she was adorable.
She’d kept it.
Remorse hit me all at once again, and the hesitancy made sense.
There was a part of Bailey that didn’t trust me.
3 ½ Years Ago
Her name crossed my phone screen with the ever-present chime of a private Facebook message.
I hadn’t expected a reply so soon.
Or one at all.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I opened the app and pressed her name before I could stop myself.
@Bailey Baby: Miles, we need to talk.
That was it. Her grand message. Just a few letters put together that felt more impersonal than had she ignored me altogether.
