Page 36 of From Fling to Ring

Jesus, how am I going to write this book?

“I’m just glad Ruby’s going to be okay. I don’t know much about diabetes but I know it’s serious stuff.”

He reaches for my hand, taking it in both of his. “It is. Scary stuff. But, thank you for coming. It was a really nice thing to do.”

“Oh, it was nothing. You know, Petal called me, all worked up and stuff, and I guess I flew into panic mode, kind of like you did, and the only thing I could think to do was to head over?—”

He cuts off my babbling with a kiss, a kiss full of appreciation where nothing more needs to be said. But it’s when he weaves his fingers into my hair and with a grip on it, pulls me closer into a deeper kiss, that it becomes hard and unapologetic.

And I swear, all my circulating blood rushes straight to my crotch, where a throbbing starts to build, and I know I’m either going inside with him or hurrying home to my vibrator.

I know which I’d prefer. I press the button to switch off the car engine while we’re still kissing and manage to release my seatbelt. When I do, Tyler pulls away, still holding my head, and the look he gives me is hungry.

Damn right.

Without a word, we exit the car and head for the door. He catches my hand as he presses a keycard to get inside, and we say nothing other than a small hello to the front desk guy.

He’s still holding my hand in the elevator when he uses his keycard again and presses the top floor button.

“Holy cow. You have the penthouse. Fancy-pants, aren’t you?” I chirp, relieved to be getting my snark back on.

“Yup. That’s me. All fancy-pants and shit.”

“How many people live in the penthouse?” I ask. “Like, are there several apartments up there?”

My ears pop as we get higher.

He gives me a funny look. “Just one. Me.”

I snap my head back on my neck and raise my eyebrows. “Well, look at you.”

He releases my hand and grabs me by the waist, turning me away so I’m facing the mirrored wall of the elevator, and he’s standing behind me.

It’s the first time I’ve really seen the two of us together, and I’m amazed at how much bigger he is than me. Of course, I know he’s a bit athlete and all that, but I’d never seen myself right next to him.

I like it.

I watch in the mirror as he runs his hands to my shoulders, and then puts one on either side of my face.

“Look at yourself,” he demands. “No, not at me. Look at yourself.”

Like every self-respecting woman, I look in the mirror every day on an as-needed basis—getting ready in the morning, checking my hair when visiting the ladies’ room at work, washing my face before bed—that sort of thing. But I never stare at myself for too long because that’s when the flaws come out, and who wants to focus on those?

I look back at Tyler, behind me, and he busts me. “Come on. Don’t look at me,” he says, pressing against my behind.

With a nice-sized erection, I might add.

“Okay. Fine. I’m looking. It might surprise you to hear this Tyler, but I’ve had this face a long time. I really don’t need to look into the mirror?—”

“Yes, you do, Lucy,” he says, cutting me off. “I want you to see how fucking beautiful you are.”

The elevator reaches the penthouse with a little jolt, which startles me along with Tyler’s words.

What do you say to something like that?

Argue?

Agree?

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