Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
It was my last thought before I fell asleep and my first thought as I woke up.
I lie back in bed, staring at the water stain patterns on the ceiling, as my head once again goes over everything. Only now it’s the harsh light of morning and I still haven’t figured out how to process it.
Last night…we got carried away. I should have known it was leading to that point. I mean, I kind of brought it upon myself. I shaved my legs. My cooch. I put on my fanciest lace bra and panties. I even wore my hair in a braid, which is one step away from it being down.
I knew Ana was gone (or was supposed to be gone) and I invited him over because I wanted him to see that part of me. I was only half-joking when I brought him to see my room—I wanted him to really know who he was dealing with here.
He didn’t care. If anything, I think it endeared me to him. I’m sure if I suggested we skip writing and just play Fallout 4 instead all day, he’d totally be down for it.
Video games might have been a smarter choice. Video games don’t lead to acting out sex scenes from your erotica novel.
I groan and cover my face with my hands. What am I going to do? We kissed. I felt his erection, how fucking large he is, and it was all for me.
Me.
I mean, how can we go back to just writing and pretending that didn’t happen? I don’t think I can.
You have to, I tell myself. Otherwise you won’t be able to write a word, and throwing away a good thing for a quick fuck is the wrong choice here.
I’m right. I’m usually right. As well as we work together, as much as I’ve fantasized about Blake that way, sleeping with him would be a massive mistake. It would be good…hot…no doubt wild and sweaty and sorely needed, and god I’d give anything to wrap my hands around his cock, feel how thick he is and…
No. It would be a massive mistake. And he’d never commit to you, so don’t even think about having a future together.
Fuck. One kiss and a hint at heavy petting and I’m spending my morning arguing with myself.
Luckily the smell of coffee and bacon brings me out of bed. After Blake left—and I felt kind of bad being so dismissive with him—Ana and I stayed up for a bit watching James Corden and drinking wine. She volleyed a thousand questions at me and I deflected them all with simple yes or no answers. I hope she doesn’t start that today because I definitely don’t have the patience before my coffee kicks in.
“Good morning,” she calls out as I take a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m making bacon and regular pancakes.”
“I’ll just have the bacon,” I tell her.
“But I’ve put the bacon in the pancakes,” she says.
I sigh. “Then those aren’t called regular pancakes.”
“Wow, you’re grumpy. I thought all the sex would have helped.”
“Again, we didn’t have sex.”
“Well, you never said what you had.”
“Does it matter?” I ask. She comes over and hands me a mug of coffee. “Thanks.”
“Drink that and cheer up. This is a great day.” She flashes her megawatt ivory-veneered grin at me.
I slurp back the coffee and close my eyes, taking it all in. “It’s always a great day for you.”
“I had a great date last night,” she says. “Life is goooood.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Yes,” she says, sliding the pancakes onto two plates. “But I don’t want to say anything about it in case I, how do you say? Ruin it all to shit.” She brings me one, despite the fact I’m waving my hands for her not to. “Eat it, you’re too skinny.”
“Yeah right,” I scoff. I feel like my ass has gotten wider ever since school finished. All this writing and sitting all day has made the excess fat and wine congregate in my butt cheeks. I figure it’s my body’s way of giving me a permanent seat—you’re a writer now, here’s your portable cushion!—but even so, it’s not appreciated.
“Don’t listen to me, then,” she says. “Besides, your boyfriend seems to like your body.”
“Not my boyfriend,” I tell her quickly. “Never my boyfriend.”
She opens her mouth but I cut her off. “Not my fuckboy either.” Speaking of fuckboy adventures, I wonder if I should text Rio about this. I want to dish all about it but at the same time it doesn’t seem right. She’ll wonder why I’m spending all this time with someone I’m supposed to hate.
And I do feel like I hate him this morning.
Just a little.
For being so damn smooth.
And firm.
And good with his lips.
Tongue.
The hard length of his cock.
The way he made me moan, louder than I ever have before.