Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“Are we really not going to talk about what happened tonight?” I raise my eyebrow at him.
I mean is he planning on ignoring the huge elephant in the room. With the way he’s been acting, I wouldn’t doubt it. But I know I can’t allow him to do that. I need answers from him.
“You sure you want to talk about that, Sunshine?”
“I mean…” I trail off as his face starts to change. He slowly starts to prowl closer to me. “Mack?”
“You still wet, Sunshine?” My mouth falls open in surprise.
“Were you drinking tonight?”
“Nope,” he clips. “Now answer the question.” He stops when he’s in front of me. His body brushes against mine. “I could find out for myself.”
“Mack,” I whisper. My body leans into his. I can’t help that I’m drawn to him.
“Right here. Don’t you see that? I’m always right here.” I stare up into his eyes. “Do you need me?” He leans down, his mouth brushes against mine while his hands begin to pull up my dress. “I’ll make you feel so damn good.” He licks the seam of my mouth, making me whimper. “Let me eat that sweet cunt of yours, Sunshine.”
“Yes.” The one word barely passes my lips before Mack is on me.
11
MACK
I thought eating her out might change our relationship—or at least how we interacted with each other, but in the week that has passed, it seems like nothing is different. We had scary movie and tacos on Tuesday. We watched Big Brother on Sunday where Sunny fell asleep again.
There hasn’t been more sex, though, since Sunny went to the doctor and came home looking pale and weak. She said it was the flu and she just needed to drink lots of fluids, eat well, and get plenty of rest.
I figured that was code for me to not touch her.
“You feeling okay today, Sunshine?”
Sunny’s been getting up real early in the morning and going downstairs. I hear her in the hallway but when I asked her about it, she brushed me off, saying she needed to be to work early. I contemplated following her to work but figured that was too much. Like I didn’t need to be a whole stalker. We lived together, and it wasn’t like she was going home to Brad or Brick or whatever his name was. She’s coming home to me.
I’ve got to learn to be patient, which isn’t easy when you are a spoiled, only child.
“Are we making Tuesday our new scary movie night?” I ask over dinner. “I saw a German horror flick on Netflix is getting good reviews.”
“What day is it today?”
“Monday, all day.”
She’s been confused a lot lately. I guess it’s some kind of mental fog related to her flu. I should’ve taken more science classes in college because this medical shit is hard to figure out. I wish I would’ve gone to the doctor with her but she was adamant that she go alone.
“Maybe we should lay off the scary movies.” She inhales and presses her hand to her stomach. “And I need to stop inhaling all the food I see.”
“You look good.” She’s a little rounder in the cheeks these days, but I like it. It makes her look sweeter, more angelic. “Here, have some more cake.”
She hesitates for a half second and then digs into the carrot cake. “I used to hate carrot cake,” she says, her mouth partially full of the dessert.
“I know. You said vegetables don’t belong in dessert. They are solely an appetizer or main course food.” That used to be her stance, and then the other day she came home with a giant piece of cake someone had brought to the office. Before she even took her coat off, she sat down at the table and devoured the whole thing. Ever since, we’ve had carrot cake every night from a different bakery as Sunny appears to be on a mission to find the perfect one.
“Isn’t it weird how your whole body can change and crave things you used to hate before?” She sets down her fork. “You know what I would kill for right now?”
“No.”
“Jell-O salad.”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“My grandmother used to make it. It’s cabbage and carrots and God knows what else inside a Jell-O mold.”
I almost vomit in my mouth. “Sounds…interesting.”
“You mean disgusting, but I’m not offended. I used to hate it, too, but now I can’t get the thought out of my head,” Sunny replies cheerfully. She picks up her phone and taps something in. I blink twice when she shows me her search results. An unappealing circular mass formed out of what looks to be an upside-down bowl of Jell-O with finely chopped carrots separated with, according to the recipe, mayonnaise and green peppers, fills her screen. I can almost feel the picture jiggling.