Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
He barked a laugh. “Who thinks that?”
I giggled. “My mom. She always skips dessert because it’s not good for her waistline, but when she’s making it, she’s taste-testing every step of the way. And one time, I saw her eating the center of a cake and covering it up with frosting.” As I grabbed two of the egg cartons, I peered at Isaac and his wolfish grin. “What?” I asked with a nervous laugh.
“I was just thinking I could eat your center and then cover it up with frosting, but I enjoy frosting, so I’d end up eating you twice.”
Splat.
I dropped the cartons of eggs at my feet, and a few of the cracked ones oozed onto the concrete floor.
“Dang it!” I lifted my sundress to keep it from getting dirty as I crouched behind the counter to pick up the cartons and salvage as many eggs as possible.
The farm stand opened in twenty minutes. That wasn’t how I wanted to start my day, and it was all Isaac’s fault.
“Just go,” I grumbled when he squatted next to me.
“I’ve got it,” he said. “Just put the rest of the cartons on the shelf before you get yourself dirty.”
The door chimed. It was just my luck; someone was early and didn’t read the posted hours. I quickly stood and batted the hair away from my face.
“Good morning, Sarah,” Mr. Cory said. “Have you seen Isaac?”
Isaac grabbed my ankle, and without ducking my chin, I lowered my gaze to him for a second.
He shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips.
“Uh, he, no. I mean, of course, he was here.” My body jerked as Isaac’s hand slid up my bare leg. So I cleared my throat. “He, uh, dropped off the uh…” I pinched my eyes shut for the briefest moment and swallowed hard. Then, my hand flew to my hip to stop his hand from pulling down my underwear.
Mr. Cory narrowed his eyes and shot his gaze to my arm. All I could do was freeze like a statue with a fake smile and my hand resting on my hip as if I had a little extra attitude with my boss.
“I don’t know where he went,” I squeaked as Isaac pulled my underwear down to my ankles and lifted one foot and then the other to remove them.
“When I find him,” Mr. Cory nodded at me, “I’m going to have him run the stand today.”
“W-what? Why?” I could barely speak because Isaac was kissing my inner thigh, just above my knee.
“Sweetheart,” Wesley said. “You’re burning up. You even have a little sweat on your brow. You must have the same thing that Vi has. Go home. Feel better.” He pivoted, and the doorbell chimed again as he exited.
“Jesus Christ!” I gasped. It was the first time I had ever used the Lord’s name in vain. “Isaac—” I couldn’t breathe. I was scared out of my wits, embarrassed beyond words, and aroused at the same time. “Stop! Get up. We almost got—”
“Shh …” Isaac was kneeling before me, sitting back on his heels. He rested one hand on the back of my knee while his other guided my hand to the top of my inner thigh. “You like to watch, and so do I,” he murmured.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips as we peered at each other. “Isaac, we—”
“Show me,” he tore his gaze from mine and stared at my hand.
This was so wrong.
Having sex with Matt in the middle of nowhere was wrong too, but touching myself while my boyfriend’s older brother watched was really, really wrong.
“Give me my underwear,” I said, taking a step back and cringing as I crushed an egg beneath my white huarache sandal. “Isaac,” my plea sounded like a childish whine, but at that point, I wanted someone to save me from the situation.
“I’m not giving them back to you,” he stood, “because you had no self-control, and now I’m stuck in this shed for the day.”
“Control?” I gasped. “You removed my underwear while your dad was right there!” I jabbed my finger in the direction of the door. “Give them to me,” I held out my hand.
I wore underwear all the time, and most of the time, I wore pantyhose with dresses, so my body was used to feeling covered. But the first of July was hot in southern Missouri, so I opted for shorts or long sundresses, but I still wore underwear. Without them, I felt naked, as if I wasn’t wearing anything.
Everything felt exposed and a little breezy down there.
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes alight with the spirit of Satan.
“Where are they?” I stepped forward between the broken eggs and pulled at his arms to look at his hands.
“They’re in my front pocket. You can slide your hand in there to get them. I’ll be more patient than I was with you at Matty’s game since my mom’s not watching.”