Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
“Relax,” he whispered against my hair and then he kissed my forehead.
“Get your hand off my...” I started and he moved his warm hand up to my waist before I could finish the threat that hadn’t quite formed on my tongue yet, pulling the shirt up with it. I could hear him breathing hard. I could feel his heartbeat and it felt like it was racing. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and gulped. How bizarre to have my head on the chest of the man from the ice cream parlor, the man I’d had on my mind the past few days. But this wasn’t that guy, that guy was from my fantasy. This guy looked just like him, but looks were where similarities ended. He’d behaved in a way I’d never imagined. The fact that this guy had taken ‘ownership’ of me and had forced me to lay here with him was repulsive.
“Don’t tell me not to touch what’s mine again. You get a pass tonight because of the day you’ve had, but don’t make the mistake of thinking whether or not we fuck is anything but my decision to make.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. This was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. He started to stroke my hair.
“No. Don’t,” I said.
“Tell me no or say don’t one more time and the deal is off, Tia.”
His hand trailed back down to my ass. He drummed his fingers on it, letting me know he was waiting for me to protest. I clamped my mouth shut. I believed him, so I made myself shut up and stay still. Every muscle in my body wanted to sprint, to run, to scream, to fight, to kick, to scratch, but I just stayed there, trembling.
“Now kiss me,” he said.
I chewed my cheek and kept my eyes shut tight, like that’d help.
“Naw, I’ll kiss you. I’ve been dying to taste these lips since that day I walked into that ice cream shop.”
He flipped me over onto my back and then he was on me, his lips were on my lips, his body hard against me. He touched my lips softly with his at first and his lips were soft but strong. He got my bottom lip between his lips and he sucked on it. I couldn’t breathe. He made an “Mm” sound against my mouth, then said, “You didn’t kiss back, but I’ll give you a pass tonight.”
Then he flipped back so that I was again on top of him. His hands were on me, one on my lower back and the other in my hair. My cheek was against his chest, his legs were parted, and our pelvises were touching. He was rock-hard. If I could see myself, I’m sure that I’d see that my eyes were bugging out of my head.
His fingers massaged my scalp; he was playing with my hair a little. After a long moment of silence, I started to take stock of the day. The day that I’d been so excited about for so long had taken such a turn, one I wouldn’t have guessed would happen in a million years, a trillion years. Right now, I should be at a party, getting tipsy. I should be cheers’ing with my friends about the fact that we’d made it through high school and should be comforting poor Ruby who had another year before she could go off to college.
I should be getting geared up to move out on my own, buy my own groceries, have full control over the remote. Living in a foster home filled to the brim with kids meant you almost never had control of the TV. It’d always been a democracy there where regular compromises had to be made on what would be watched. It meant if you didn’t tackle the bag of cookies on grocery shopping day the only snacks around until next week was fruit. It meant hustle and bustle and loudness, occasional spats, frequent cold showers because someone else used up all the hot, but lots and lots of hijinks, and so much laughter.
I should be excited about the next chapter in my life. Another chapter was starting, though. Only, it was one I hadn’t anticipated. Instead of having the night I should be having I was in the arms of a criminal. My life was at stake. My father’s life was at stake. Either I got to be married to this criminal, got to be his unwilling sex slave, or got shipped off to be someone else’s sex slave.
If anyone had told me that morning I’d spend the night in the bed and in the arms of Ice Cream Parlor Hottie in his hacienda style house, I’d have told them they were nuts, but the very idea of it would’ve melted my panties off. I’d never have been able to predict what’d wound up transpiring.