Crazy Good by Rachel Robinson

Author:Rachel Robinson [Robinson, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497350045
Amazon: 1497350042
Barnesnoble: 1497350042
Goodreads: 20576134
Publisher: Rachel Robinson
Published: 2014-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Maverick

“What exactly are in all of these bottles?” I ask as I yank off my pants at the entrance of the wet room. The only answer I get is a bout of her sweet laughter. I fucking love the pink bottles crowding my solitary green one. I’m on top of the damn world right now. Windsor loved the tattoo. It took a little longer than it should have for her to respond after I revealed it, but the wait was worth it. I’ll replay her response constantly. I’ve also decided I should write her a million songs because of how she reacted to that. The emotion was almost too much for me to handle. I rarely crack, but that was the closest I’ve come.

“Where did you learn to sing and play like that?” she asks. Her tiny frame, barefoot, is leaning against the shower wall, away from the showerhead I have turned on. She’s eyeing me like musical talent is the last thing she’s interested in. I work the soap in my hands and rub it on my body, sliding it down my legs. Her eyes are glued to my dick when I cup my junk and wash it.

Long seconds pass. “I taught myself mostly, but I played when I was a kid too.” I clear my throat. “Like what you see?”

“Huh?” Windsor glances up, eyes round. Caught. Just her eyes on my body make me hard. She’s fully clothed and I can’t help but remember last night when I saw the woman, Lexi in the bar. I didn’t feel like this, my body didn’t have this reaction to her. In fact, my body has only reacted like this to Windsor. Especially my damn heart—beating like a drum. I want her. I’m going to have her. She will finally be all mine. Tonight.

She swallows hard. “You know I do. It’s probably my favorite sight…better than the Alps or the Grand Canyon; possibly even a quaint town in France.” She grins. “I actually have a small confession to make, too. It’s nothing crazy, but with your streak of confessions it makes me want to tell you everything. I sort of do anyways. Whether you want me to or not.”

“I love when you ramble,” I say, washing the soap out of my hair. She bites her lip. My self-control teeters on the fucking edge. I want to pull her in, clothing and all, and have my way with her. I’ve said the word “love” more times in one night than I have during my entire life. “Ramble on. Confess your sins. I’ll tell you how many Hail Mary’s you need to do after.” I grab one of her bottles, open it, and give it a quick sniff. It smells like her hair. Fucking delicious. I pour some in my hand and scrub it into my hair just for good measure. Windsor shakes her head, laughing.

“Nash has been calling. He called a few days ago to apologize. He wants to be friends. Just friends.

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