Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Can he really mean it?
You need to come back, he texts. Or I’m coming to find you. I need to kiss you again so badly it hurts.
You’re making me feel so special. I text back to him, wondering if it sounds silly, hitting send before I can overthink it.
You are special, he replies.
I return to the party, warning myself to act natural.
Sonya strides over when she sees me, Mila at her side. The women look more like sisters than mother and daughter. Mila’s looking at me with a question in her eyes as if asking if I somehow found a way to be alone with Banner again.
“Here she is,” Sonya beams. “My soon-to-be daughter.”
I glow, happiness whelming in me. Sonya and I have talked about this before. She knows she can’t replace my mom, and she’s never presumed to try.
But our connection means something to me.
“Where have you been hiding?” she asks.
“Mom.” Mila gives her a nudge. “She’s clearly just been to the bathroom. Unless you want her to describe it?”
Sonya laughs. “No, no, I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I’m on a recruitment drive for a conga line. What do you say?”
I nod. “Yeah, sounds great.”
What else am I going to tell her?
No, Sonya, I don’t want to join. I’d rather find a quiet place where Banner and I can finish what we started.
“Just let me get a quick drink,” I add, my mouth dry from all the lust-filled thoughts…and the effort of resisting them.
CHAPTER 8
Banner
Oh, hell.
I only realize what’s happened when I walk up behind Brooke, my balls feeling like they swelled, like my seed is telling me I have to take her now.
Brooke and I were slow getting to the line. Cynthia’s in front of her, and I’m at the back, behind Brooke.
My hands slide over her hips, and I warn myself to stay calm, to control myself.
But the animal inside is roaring at me to slip my hands lower. My body remembers too keenly how hers felt when my manhood was pushing against her belly as if telling her core soon…soon…soon…
Focus, I roar silently in my head.
She looks over her shoulder. When she sees it’s me, the most beautiful expression falls over her face, a mixture of shock, affection, want, and finally, the knowledge that this is dangerous.
We could both lose control.
“Are you ready?” Gil calls from the front of the line, laughing.
A cheer of yes goes up from all the participants except for two—me and Brooke.
She stares at me, giving me a significant look, though it could mean touch me or let me go.
We’re too aware of everybody else to exchange any words.
At least any words we want to say. We can’t give a preview of the heat inside of us.
The line starts, everybody cheering and laughing, and I do my best to join in.
But all I can think about is how well her hips fit in my hands like they were made for them. I squeeze a little harder, knowing I should stop, my manhood pushing against my jeans, my helm leaking, still ready after the grove, after what we did.
I’m sure she moans at one point as I indulge even more. I feel like I am betraying my best friend as I make a mockery of what it means to be the best man.
Finally, the song ends.
Brooke takes a few faltering steps backward, her body trembling, making my savage mind think of how she shook when she reached her crescendo.
I’m hungry to touch her again, but I step away, forcing myself before I make a mistake.
Or another mistake.
But at the same time, it’s difficult to think of anything we do like that. It feels too right.
“Right, thank you, everybody,” Gil calls from the front of the group, his arm around Sonya, looking so happy I could roar. “You’ve made our first evening absolutely magical. I know you’re all tired from the travel, so I won’t keep you any longer. But thank you! Please meet here at seven am if you want to join the boat ride tomorrow morning.”
Brooke looks at me. She’s got her lips slightly parted in that tempting way again. I can imagine her looking at me like this on our wedding day, just before we’re allowed to kiss, like she can’t wait.
And neither can I.
Then Mila approaches her, and she turns away.
I do the same, promising myself I’ll be stronger.
And deep down, knowing I’ll fail.
Sitting on my balcony, I look out over the ocean. Or the darkness, more accurately, since the stars and the moon only light up some of it.
I’ve been here for around thirty minutes, the cell phone resting on the table near my hand, fighting the urge to text her.
I try to imagine how the weekend could be. There’s a world in which we keep our word, or at least start keeping it from now.