Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Graham, oh fuck,” she whispers as her body calms after her orgasm.
I don’t want the moment to end, I want to drag it out for fear of never having the chance again. So, I bring my lips to meet hers, kissing her until I can’t stand it anymore. A ragged groan tears from deep within my throat as I push my way inside her. Goddamn I can’t get over how tight she is. And how good she feels.
Her legs grip around my back, and I keep pushing, keep trying to go in as deep as I can. Until I can stop the incessant want and need of this girl. But, it’ll never end. I have a feeling I’ll keep wanting her more and more after each time.
I lean my forehead against hers, our lips a millimeter apart, and whisper her name again and again.
Her eyes crash into mine, owning me. Completely fucking owning me. My orgasm rips through me as she tells me how she’s never had it so good. My heart beat ramps up, and I know in this exact moment, I am completely fucked over this girl.
Chapter 10
Zoe
The next morning, I sleep in. And it’s heaven in this big comfy bed with thoughts of Graham swimming in my head. Sounds like a Christmas rhyme. What happens next, is exactly what’s in the poem. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
I look out the window and this can’t be happening. I mean this really can’t be happening. What the Hell? Eleanor has a thingy, an actual wedding thingy, assembled in their backyard. An arch, with white flowers snaking around the frame of the trellis. The only thing missing is the wedding officiant underneath.
I get dressed in a hurry and fly down the stairs.
“What do you think?” she asks as I step outside.
“What is it?” I rub my hands along my arms to warm up.
“Well…” she draws out, “I was thinking why not have the wedding here and now while the family is all together?”
She can’t be serious. I grasp at straws. “I’d want my mother here, so I don’t think that’ll work.”
At that precise moment, Graham steps outside, and like a saint has my winter coat in his hands. He helps slide it over my arms, and then smiles at his mother. “What is this?”
“A wedding. It’s already decided,” his mother exclaims, nodding at me.
My mind can’t comprehend all of this. I glance over at the deer-in-the-headlights look Graham has on his face, waiting for him to step in and explain everything. Or to come up with an excuse as to why we can’t get married this weekend.
He doesn’t. Instead, he strides over confidently to his mother, places a kiss on the top of her head, says, ‘perfect,’ then walks back inside the house.
What the…? Men.
I turn back around to face Eleanor and try to lift my lips. “I love it.”
Ugh, I guess I’ll play along until Graham tells everyone the truth, preferably before my mother shows up.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, Zoe.”
Oh my god. My mother. She’s here. I blink to make sure the petite woman with a dark bob stepping onto the patio isn’t a hallucination. It’s not.
I can tell by the tone of her voice she’s not happy. And why should she be? Her only daughter didn’t even tell her she was getting married.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Eleanor says with a smile, moving around us to go inside.
“Zoe, you’re marrying Graham Steele?” my mom asks, once we’re alone. “I searched him on the internet. How did you end up engaged to a man like that?”
“Mom, it’s a long story. It all just sort of happened.”
I know this is so wrong, and I’m probably going to Hell, but I’m actually beginning to like the lie. I’m kind of believing it too. Just like the kid says in that movie, ‘Oh fudge.’ I decide to sit on my throne of lies a little longer. “I’ll explain everything later. Let’s go inside; it’s cold.”
We step inside to find Eleanor and Lindsey sitting on the couch with a million bridal magazines. Graham is nowhere in sight. And I’m not in the mood to plan a wedding I’ll never get to enjoy. A wedding to a man who doesn’t truly want me. I think it’s this thought that depresses me further.
But, then I remember our deal and plaster on a fake smile, because, let’s be honest...the only way to put on a fake smile is to plaster it on. Right?
I move closer, feigning interest. “Are you looking at dresses?”
“Yes, and this one would look so perfect on you,” Lindsey says, pointing to a form fitting gown with a low back. “Mother knows the owner of Fantasy Dresses, Pierre Von Ludwig. Yes, the Pierre Von Ludwig. And he’s coming...here...today.” Her voice rises on each word.