There's a little under SIX WEEKS until Gideon and Andi officially arrive, and I can't wait for you to meet them! I've always wanted to write a snowed-in forced proximity book, and I've always loved grumpy/sunshine, so why not combine the two things? Toss in a dash of "they used to be friends" and a pinch of "he's a virgin" and it's a whole feast!
Enough rambling from me: please have this excerpt instead.
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Andi puts one foot on the dashboard, her knee almost knocking the window, her head back and her throat exposed and her dress puddling into her lap.
It’s dark outside, and she’s lit by dashboard lights and the backward-reflecting glow of the car’s headlamps on the road in front of us. My mouth’s gone dry and and I can feel her watching me. I glance over every couple of seconds.
“You know what I think?” she says, and her hand’s on her inner thigh, right where her skin is softest. Where I can’t stop leaving pretty marks that I come back to visit later, like old friends. There’s one there now, mostly faded, and she circles her thumb around it.
“That we’re seven minutes from my house?” I say, voice low. I accelerate a little.
“That if your sister's going to treat me like a whore, I may as well act like one,” she says.
Fucking absurd that my first instinct is to say no, she didn’t, thirty-two years of conditioning bubbling to the surface. Stupid that I’ve still got the urge to defend my sister when she doesn’t deserve it.
“Now?” is the only thing I can manage to say, and Andi laughs.
“I could wait until tomorrow,” she says. “If that works better with your schedule.”
There’s a soft gasp at the end of that sentence, and in the corner of my vision, I can see the heel of her hand sliding over her underwear.
“Six minutes,” I say. “Five, maybe.”
“Okay,” she says, voice neutral, and then lifts her hips from the seat and slides her panties off.
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