Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
She picked it up but wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never had both a shot and a beer at the same time.”
“Stella said it’s called a boilermaker. I call it a good way to get drunk.”
“But you have to drive us back to the motel,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, we’re just havin’ one.” He tapped his shot glass against hers and downed the whiskey in one swallow. He followed it with a long draw on his beer.
“I shouldn’t sip it?”
Ozzy grinned. “Sweetheart, just shoot it, then chase it with the beer.”
She focused on the shot in her fingers. This trip was about pushing herself out of her self-made bubble. To conquer the past but also try new things.
Without another thought, she sucked in a breath, blew it back out and then swallowed the whole shot. She gasped as the fumes from the alcohol made her want to cough. She quickly grabbed the beer and took a long sip, dousing the fire in her belly. Somewhat.
“Holy smokes,” she breathed carefully, blinking quickly since her eyes began to water.
“Good, yeah?”
“Um… I’m glad we’re only having one.”
He barked out a laugh and took another sip of his beer.
Drinking like that would knock her on her ass way too quickly. She really didn’t want to be too tipsy to continue the night with Ozzy.
He twisted on his stool, his denim-clad knee pressing into her bare outer thigh. He drew his fingertips from the hem of her shorts to her knee and back, causing goosebumps to break out over her skin.
His touch was addicting.
His skills in bed were impressive.
Even with all the rest of her hang-ups, sex had never been one. But then, she’d never had sex with a stranger before. Ozzy hadn’t been quite a stranger, but close enough. Usually, she dated a man for a month, or even two, before getting intimate with him. Once she felt comfortable and more trusting.
He cupped her knee in his warm hand and gave it a squeeze. “Never said your reason for movin’ to Boston in the first place.”
“My marriage.”
A pause stretched between them as his hand slipped off her knee and he turned on the stool until he was fully facing her. “You’re married?”
“I was.”
“Divorced?”
“Unfortunately, that was the only legal way to get rid of him without ending up in jail.”
He snorted.
She sighed, running a finger down the now sweating pint glass. “To be honest, he divorced me.”
“Why the fuck would he do that? ‘Cause he got fuckin’ brain damage? That’s gotta be the only acceptable reason.”
She shook her head. “No. He got bored with me and moved on.”
“What… the… actual… fuck,” he ground out. “You bored him in bed?”
Wait… She didn’t bore Ozzy in bed, did she? So far, she’d been open to anything he suggested, had pushed her boundaries and enjoyed everything they’d done together. Even when he sucked her toes and licked her in a place she’d never been licked before.
It had taken her a few moments to get comfortable with both of those things, but he made it seem normal and natural, and not so… Forbidden? Maybe that wasn’t the right choice of word. Those sex acts weren’t really forbidden, they only felt that way. It kind of made what he was doing more exciting.
But he also made her feel comfortable while doing them and that was what helped her relax and enjoy it so much more quickly.
“No, not in bed. In general. I found out too late he has the attention span of a gnat. It doesn’t matter what it is, he eventually gets tired of it and wants something new to tickle his fancy. Like wives.”
“Wives,” Ozzy repeated with a frown.
“I was his second. He’s on his third already.”
“Damn. I’m guessin’ the latest won’t be the last, then?”
She shook her head. “Probably not. I tried to warn her but she only thought I was jealous, so…” Shay shrugged. “Good luck to her. If his first wife would’ve warned me, I might have listened.”
“Ain’t the sayin’ ‘love is blind?’”
“Yes, you’re right. Sometimes love is blind. Maybe that’s it. We can get so blinded by love, or what we think is love, that we can’t see the obvious.”
Even if it slapped a person right in the face.
“Moved to Boston to be with him.”
He was already halfway done with his beer and she had hardly touched hers. She took another long sip to wash down the bitter taste talking about her failed marriage caused. “We moved to Boston together when his organization transferred him there. Living there wasn’t so bad until suddenly I found myself alone and the only one paying the bills. I love the area but not the cost of it.”
“Yeah, same for me when I rolled into San Diego. Loved the area, but too fuckin’ rich for my blood.”
“You lived on the west coast?”