Getting Wet: A Curvy Girl Romance (It's Raining Men Book 1) by Mila Crawford

Author:Mila Crawford [Crawford, Mila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Ally

I woke up with Hawkley's arms draped around me. I smiled at how we'd gotten so carried away last night. But I wasn't ashamed or feeling guilty for our pleasure. We'd snuggled and kissed all night, and every time I moved in the bed, he draped an arm or leg over me like he didn't want me to go. I gently moved his arm off me and got up. I stepped into my dress from last night and found my way to his kitchen; desperate for a cup of coffee, I could smell scenting the air. There was a ton of sunlight in the apartment, and it put me in a good mood until I made it to the source of the coffee smell. There in his kitchen, standing at the counter, was a tall and gorgeous goddess pouring herself a cup. She was easily six feet tall without an inch of fat on her stunning figure. She was clad in a bikini, covered by a flowing and transparent mumu; on her feet were wedge espadrilles. Her Hollywood hair was parted in the middle, and the loosely curled tendrils fell onto her shoulders, framing large but thin gold hoops in her ears. She smiled at me like she was happy to see me, revealing a large and adorable gap between her two front teeth.

"Heya!" she said.

Fuck.

Were gorgeous models inherently friendly or staggeringly stupid?How did I constantly seem to get entangled with cheaters? Was I a cheater magnet? It was my fault too because I hadn't thought to ask him if he had a girlfriend. It just seemed like he didn't, but I guess he had a reason for making it seem that way. His girlfriend was so cute that it actually brought tears to my eyes. Men were snakes, and maybe I needed to start dating my own gender.

"He's a pig. The whole sink was full of dishes, and there was a pair of underwear on top," she told me, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She lifted up the wet underwear. It was mine. I died a little inside. Okay, a lot.

As she came closer, I could see the spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was fucking perfect; even I wanted to take pictures of her and put them on album covers. Her face was familiar too, probably because she was famous. She reminded me of Bridget Bardot, only lanky and waif-like.

She casually pulled a mug from the cupboard, one which had the AARP logo.

"Coffee?" she asked me. She was already pouring it. "Cream?" she asked.

I cleared my throat.

"Black," I said, nearly choking.

I gulped the hot coffee too fast and too eagerly. Then I held in the cough that rattled my chest because I'd burnt my tongue, my lips, and everything else on the way down. It was okay. I deserved it.

She opened the window over the sink, opened it all the way so the breeze could come in.

"Hawk is so selfish," she said.

"I nodded and sipped.

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