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)
We won’t touch each other. We won’t text.
We’ll fight this until after the wedding when we have some perspective.
But I’m not sure if it’s this world.
I pick up the phone, feeling like my head will split right down the middle if I don’t talk with her. It’s a feeling that has me feeling possessed by her, possessive of her, my woman.
Are you going on the boat ride tomorrow? I text.
Putting the phone down, I tell myself she won’t text back. The conga line was too much. My body is still reeling from that, not just the feel of her, but the way her luxurious hair bounced, how her hips moved from side to side.
Her wide hips, her perfect-for-motherhood hips.
I was thinking about it, she replied. It sounds pretty fun. What about you?
I was going to go. But it might be better if I don’t.
Why? Because of me?
I stare at her message for a moment, wondering how to respond.
It would be better to tone down my need. It would hurt both her and me, but I could begin to distance myself.
But I don’t want to tone it down. I want her. I hunger for her.
It’s so difficult being close to you. I thought it was hard when I was in Japan. But this is torture.
You thought about me in Japan?
I grind my teeth, something I haven’t done in years.
It was Gil who pointed it out to me back when I started my consulting business. A teenage holdover, that habit, but it made me look insecure in meetings.
Gil, my woman’s father.
And yet I can’t lie to her.
Yes, I type. I thought about your birthday. That night. A lot.
Oh. I assumed you’d be too busy with work and…having fun to worry about that.
I look at the ellipsis after ‘and.’ She didn’t have to put that since we’re texting. But I know what she’s getting at. She just doesn’t want to seem pushy.
As if there could be such a thing where we’re concerned.
From another hut, somebody laughs, a woman and a man. A couple. It just makes me wish Brooke was here, with me, where she belongs.
I didn’t have any girlfriends in Tokyo, Brooke. I was too busy thinking about you.
Really?
Pausing again, I turn to the shield of darkness, listening to the subtly shifting ocean. The night is cool, adding to the alert feeling that simply speaking with Brooke instills in me. It makes me want to find her room, throw open the door, and grab her, proving what I say is true.
Yes, I type, warning myself not to share it all. I couldn’t stop wishing I’d kissed you. Even if I knew I’d done the right thing. Now I’ve tasted you, I regret it. I regret this lost year.
Even this is risking a lot. I wonder if I should’ve included that part about losing a year since it implies so much.
Surely she’ll think I’m moving too fast…even if the very concept doesn’t fit with us, at least in my mind.
There’s no too fast when I know, without a doubt, this woman belongs to me. If she wasn’t Gil’s daughter, I’d already be over there, tearing off her clothes and giving into my need to make her pregnant.
She’d moan and gasp as I drove inside of her as her soaked pussy got tighter and tighter around my cock.
You really regret it?
Yes. But at the same time, I know we did the right thing. For Gil.
But we didn’t do the right thing earlier.
No, we didn’t.
There’s a pause. I close my eyes, breathing softly, trying to tame my thoughts.
But we will, she texts. From now on, we won’t touch. We won’t kiss. We won’t do anything like that.
Is that what you want?
I click send quickly, staring at the cell phone clenched tightly in my fist. The idea of somehow resisting Brooke doesn’t just feel impossible. And it feels cruel. It feels like punishment, despite how necessary it is.
I try to picture Gil’s face if he found out. The way it would twist in rage.
Or, worse, crumple in sadness.
That’s a complicated question, she responds. I know that’s what we should do. I know it’s the right thing. But no, Banner, honestly. It’s not what I want.
I stand, pacing up and down the small balcony, having too much energy to sit still.
My thoughts keep trying to tell me it’s okay.
I could sneak down the pier, find her room, slip through the door and stalk to her bed like the predator she makes me. I could claim her, every single inch, and there’s nothing wrong with it.
Except for everything.
I don’t want it either, I type, still pacing. What I want is to come over there and bring you to orgasm again. But a different sort this time.
Hmm? she sends, making me imagine her moaning in her voice.
I want to strip you naked and massage your thick, beautiful thighs. Push your legs apart and drive my face between them, right up against your soaked slit. And then I’ll indulge myself. I’ll fucking feast on your hot pussy. I’ll lick so fast, Brooke, I’ll be so obsessed with making you wet….