Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
“No, Cal.” His nostrils flared. “Nothing about how I feel for you is sisterly.”
His fingers rolled south—still only touching my bikini string—skimming the area where the cord met the triangle covering my breast. It was so obvious my nipples were hard. I opened my eyes and saw how his stare glided to my breasts. My own gaze slid down, and I found him hard behind his jeans, his dick nearly poking my center. On instinct, I arched my back from the banister, my pussy meeting his cock through our clothes. Neither of us breathed for a second.
This was wrong. We were crossing a line now, and we both knew it.
“Ever wondered what it might feel like?” he surprised me by asking.
“What?” My voice was hoarse, my heart hammering its way out of my chest, cracking the bones embracing it, one beat at a time.
“Kissing each other.”
All the time. “No.” I shook my head, arching farther, my center meeting his, the imprint of his dick jamming the slit of my pussy through our clothes. So delicious, so empty. “Never.”
“Fuck, Dot.” He gave my bikini string a rough tug, loosening its hold. The right triangle dislodged, falling slightly, exposing the plump mound of my breast and one pink nipple. “You’re always pretty, but especially when you lie.”
“You think I’m pretty?” I bloomed beneath his gaze like a flower opening its petals to welcome the sun’s rays. His eyes were on my breast, and panic swirled through me. The forbiddance of it all turned me on. The idea that Dylan could walk in on us any minute now and catch us. It made me even wetter.
“I think you’re a liar too.” His tongue traced his lower lip, eyes still on my nipple. “I think you lie all the time, to make people around you feel better. Don’t you care about that?”
“No.” I struggled to swallow, feeling his dick pulsating, growing even harder and thicker between my thighs. “Because now I think I know why you cut me out of all those pictures.”
I was bluffing. Lying again. Because it frightened me that he saw through me. Through my act.
He placed his rough, warm palm on the base of my neck, stepping back to remove his dick from my core, and tilted my head up so our eyes were locked in a war, releasing the most devastating words I’d ever heard in the English language. “I wasn’t the one who cut you out, Dot,” he said. “Dylan did.”
CAL
oBITCHuary: Well, I’m officially employed.
McMonster: Should I pop the champagne?
oBITCHuary: No. Save it. I’ll smash it on my new boss’s head when I get desperate.
McMonster: Hmm. Promising start.
oBITCHuary: The man legit despises me, Mac.
McMonster: I have a nickname now?
oBITCHuary: FOCUS.
McMonster: Right. Shitty boss. Why does he despise you?
oBITCHuary: I think because I once slept with him and it ended up with a lot of drama and zero orgasms for me. He was my first. And…well, my last. Pathetic, right?
McMonster: IDK. Maybe if he knew all that background he wouldn’t hate you?
oBITCHuary: LOL. If he knew all that background he’d make fun of me until the cows came home.
McMonster: What does it mean, that you chose to sleep with him even though men make you anxious?
oBITCHuary: That I have terrible judgment?
McMonster: Or (playing devil’s advocate here, bc that’s apparently what he is), he doesn’t make you feel threatened.
oBITCHuary: Don’t take his side, Mac!
McMonster: I’m not taking any sides. I’m just making you look at the big picture.
oBITCHuary: The picture is wonky. And about to make me work my ass off. Ten-hour shifts.
McMonster: Suck it up, buttercup.
CAL
“There She Goes”—Sixpence None the Richer
“And then what happened?”
Mom chased her vodka shot with a pickle and some herring to take the bite off the alcohol. We were cocooned in our kitchen. I brought my shot of vodka to my lips and knocked it back with a pained groan. Semus, aka my sociopathic cat, was sitting in my lap, doing his best rumbling engine impression, purring his life away. He’d been peeing inside my sneakers ever since I’d moved back home, putting the message across that he hadn’t appreciated my five-year absence.
“Then he said I was hired.” I hiccupped. “Well, actually, he might’ve said I was fired. It was hard to tell, seeing as he looked like he was going to kill me.”
“Row was always the dark and moody type.” Mom let out a dreamy giggle. “It’s part of his charm. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.”
“What, murder-y?” I squeezed one eye shut, scrunching my nose.
“Alpha-y. It’s all about cinnamon rolls and consent these days.”
“Yeah. Consent. So gross, right?” I pinned her with a pointed look.
Mom laughed. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
I didn’t, but I had bigger fish to fry. “Why does everyone hate him around here? What did he do?” I sank my nails into the seam between Semus’s tail and back. He lifted his butt, eyeing the herring longingly while I massaged him.