| Author: | Bria Daly | ISBN: | 9781310103490 |
| Publisher: | Bria Daly | Publication: | February 19, 2016 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Bria Daly |
| ISBN: | 9781310103490 |
| Publisher: | Bria Daly |
| Publication: | February 19, 2016 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
Excerpt:
I woke up to the smell of something yummy. You’d think it was food that woke me up after three days without eating, but it was a lot yummier than food. I opened my eyes and saw a recently showered, soapy smelling, wet-haired Ben, wearing only a towel around his waist.
I was practically on my deathbed, still feverish and famished, but the idea of ripping that towel off of him and taking him right then and there did actually cross my mind.
“Sorry,” he apologized. Stupid man, as if there was a need to say sorry. As far as I was concerned, he had brought me back from my deathbed and gave me a reason to live; he looked delicious.
“Wait,” I said reaching out to him with my hand.
“Are you okay? Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you needed anything before I left.”
“I have a confession to make,” I told him.
“Okay… but only if you want to confess, because for starters, I don’t think you’re dying or anything, but mainly, since I’m almost naked and you’re in my bed, I’m not feeling very priestly or holy right now.”
“You don’t look priestly or holy,” I told him and I felt my fever rise.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “about your confession?”
My confession … I couldn’t even remember. It had something to do with that towel he was wearing around his waist. I must have looked confused, because he laughed at me. He was making fun of me. I was finally starting to feel alive again, and the man was making fun of me.
“I forget,” I told him, and he squeezed my hand and started to get up.
“Wait,” I said, not letting go of his hand.
He sat down again. Maybe if I got him to sit and stand, and stand and sit fast enough and plenty of times, he might just lose the damn towel!
“Yes?” he asked patiently.
Still drawing a blank, and then I suddenly remembered and blushed, when I told him what I had been thinking ever since he walked into his room, “I think you’re overdressed.”
Excerpt:
I woke up to the smell of something yummy. You’d think it was food that woke me up after three days without eating, but it was a lot yummier than food. I opened my eyes and saw a recently showered, soapy smelling, wet-haired Ben, wearing only a towel around his waist.
I was practically on my deathbed, still feverish and famished, but the idea of ripping that towel off of him and taking him right then and there did actually cross my mind.
“Sorry,” he apologized. Stupid man, as if there was a need to say sorry. As far as I was concerned, he had brought me back from my deathbed and gave me a reason to live; he looked delicious.
“Wait,” I said reaching out to him with my hand.
“Are you okay? Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you needed anything before I left.”
“I have a confession to make,” I told him.
“Okay… but only if you want to confess, because for starters, I don’t think you’re dying or anything, but mainly, since I’m almost naked and you’re in my bed, I’m not feeling very priestly or holy right now.”
“You don’t look priestly or holy,” I told him and I felt my fever rise.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “about your confession?”
My confession … I couldn’t even remember. It had something to do with that towel he was wearing around his waist. I must have looked confused, because he laughed at me. He was making fun of me. I was finally starting to feel alive again, and the man was making fun of me.
“I forget,” I told him, and he squeezed my hand and started to get up.
“Wait,” I said, not letting go of his hand.
He sat down again. Maybe if I got him to sit and stand, and stand and sit fast enough and plenty of times, he might just lose the damn towel!
“Yes?” he asked patiently.
Still drawing a blank, and then I suddenly remembered and blushed, when I told him what I had been thinking ever since he walked into his room, “I think you’re overdressed.”
