Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
My belly warms and the welcome pressure of need blossoms. “Spanking? You spanked me, did you?”
“Should’ve tied you better,” he says against my ear, with a little nip before he trails his tongue along the shell of my ear. I shiver and squirm, ticklish and aroused.
“Did you tie me up?” I say with a forced yawn. “It must’ve been terribly forgettable. Ahh!” I squeal when he clamps his teeth harder and sends a bling of pain and a wave of heat straight to my core.
His mouth at my ear, he whispers in a heated growl. “Should’ve made you come five times instead of three.”
“Yes,” I breathe, stifling a moan. “You should have, you slacker.”
“Ohhh, she’s getting bold,” he says, his voice laced with warning. “I’ll have to punish you for that, sweetheart.”
I close my eyes as his mouth meets mine, thankful the others are further enough out to sea and we have the beach to ourselves. I like being here on shore, the soft blanket warmed by the sand and sun, under the expanse of sun and sky, yet still somehow alone in our own little corner of the world.
I sink into the warmth of his kiss. Part my lips. And when I touch my tongue to his, I relish the masculine sounds of his sighs and moans. Perfection.
When we come up for air, the others are heading to shore. By the time they reach us, I’m nestled chastely but intimately in his lap, his chin resting on the top of my head.
“You guys!” Starla says, grabbing a towel from the heap I brought with us. “There’s an arcade! I have never been to an arcade before. Let’s go!”
Sergio nods to the blanket. “Eat first, Starla. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” she says with a little frown. Starla’s so thin I can see her rib cage, even though her own suit is modest and covers her well.
“Try,” I urge her. “I know how hard it is to stop the fun and do responsible things.” I give her a wink, playing this off as just a little friendly reminder. Starla has made so much progress, but she has a long way to heal yet.
Mario and Gloria head for the boardwalk and Timeo joins us on the blanket.
“You’d better eat quick,” Timeo says, snagging a few sandwiches. “I’m starving and if you don’t eat yours, I’ll be happy to toss those down the hatch.”
Sighing, she takes one of the sandwiches he gives her and to my surprise, eats nearly all of it.
Okay so maybe in ten or twenty years I’ll let him near her.
Maybe.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Sergio says. I know what he’s going to tell them since we talked about the text message he got an hour ago, but when we talked it was only bad news. I’m not sure what the good part is.
“Bad news first,” Starla says, wrapping up her bread crusts daintily. She never did like the crusts, but would be punished if she didn’t eat them. I never make her. “It’s easier to face the bad knowing there’s good to come.”
“Okay. Bad news, Ricco texted. Things have…taken a bad turn.” Sergio sighs. “We need to cut our trip short.”
“Oh, Sergio,” Starla says. “I’m so sorry.”
Timeo sobers. We all know what this means.
“We’ll have to head home today.”
Starla nods. “Of course.”
Timeo gathers up the trash and tosses them like he’s taking basketball shots into a nearby bin. “And the good news?”
“The good news is, I happened to notice there’s a Dairy Queen on the way home.”
Starla squeals and leaps to her feet. “Okay, I’m ready to go!” She’s been talking non-stop about some kind of candy bar sundae thing since she saw it online a few days ago. We’re eager to not only see her heal her body but heal her soul — and that means giving her things to look forward to, and everyday experiences others might take for granted, but she needs.
We pack our bags and head home, laden with sandy towels and memories. We play loud music, buy gas station snacks, and make plans for our next trip.
“I can’t go the last weekend in August,” Starla says. While other might find it annoying, I watch with glee as she scrolls through her phone. It’s so good to see her doing normal teen things I could cry.
“Why’s that?” I ask, as Sergio looks forward, his eyes on the road. I know he’s listening, though.
Taking on the responsibility of caring for Starla has been a sort of baptism-by-fire thing for us. I’ve never had responsibility like this, and though he has, it’s been a very different sort. Sergio’s learning to defer to me, because Starla’s my sister, and I’m learning to give him space to find his own role as brother-in-law, since we’re a team.