Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
She doesn’t understand that I need to convince her, myself, and the world. After saying goodbye, I start the drive toward the vet.
Parking outside Maya’s house, I look across at the rundown façade, the chipped wooden steps, and the general tired look of it. It wouldn’t be so difficult to patch a few things up and give it a lick of paint. But it’s not my place to offer something like that.
I walk up the stone path. Despite the cracks in the concrete, the path is weeded, and the lawn looks somewhat cared for. With how busy Maya is, that’s saying a lot.
I haven’t called or texted ahead to let her know I’m coming, which might’ve been a mistake. Maybe part of me wants for her not to be in.
I hear Loki yapping and scratching at it the second I reach the door. I don’t have to wonder before the door swings open, and Maya is standing there.
Holy. Fuck.
It’s sunny, so her outfit makes sense, but looking at her still fills me with fire. She’s wearing shorts that show her thick, curvy legs. Sweat clings to her, sliding down her skin. Her white tank top shows the pink of her bra underneath, and her hair is hanging-around-the-house messy. There’s something that triggers me. Instantly, I want to tear off her tank top and rip apart her bra.
Free those tits …
Fuck.
Luckily, Loki is all over me, giving me an excuse to kneel and pay the little guy attention. That way, hopefully, I can calm the heat pulsing in me just a little.
When I stand, Maya is adjusting her hair. Her tank top shifts, drawing attention to her big, bouncy tits. My manhood hardens again. I can’t help it.
“Hey, Tristan,” she murmurs.
“I’ve got some medication for the dogs,” I tell her, the explanation sounding lame.
At my words, she offers a smile that makes all of this worth it. It brightens my day. It’s been years since anything other than a canine has done that for me.
“Do you want to tea?” she asks. “Um, I mean, do you want some iced tea?” She tenses up like she’s embarrassed at her blunder. It causes her body to ripple in a way that has my mind going to all sorts of hungry places. Primal places. Fuck, I could softly bite her big tit and leave an imprint there.
“Yes,” I say quickly. “Thank you, I mean.” Now I’m tensing up. “Come on, boy.”
I scoop Loki into my arms, the best distraction, as she leads me into the house, closing the door behind me. Her scent makes me want to lean in when she gets close, but Loki’s between us. Maybe that’s for the best. The terrier whines, yawning like he can sense tension in the air.
“Maya?” a voice calls, old but with some strength. “Maya?”
“Sorry.” Maya turns to me. “It’s my mom. She has ALS. Did I mention that?” She seems flustered. “Do you want to meet her?” She asks the question suddenly, then looks like she might want to take it back.
I watch her, waiting to see if she will. Her wild hair is easy to look at and savor, the waves she’s tried to tame but won’t stay put. When I see she means it, I nod. “Sure.”
Putting Loki down, I walk at her shoulder. “Stay, you two.” When she waggles a finger at Loki and Luna, my smile feels like the biggest relief, like water after four days of dehydration.
“What?” Maya says, when I stare at her, laughing cutely.
“Just you,” I whisper.
Her cheeks redden. I swear they do like we’re in a movie. Then she quickly turns away and pushes the door open, like she doesn’t want to hover.
“Mom, are you okay?” Maya walks ahead, poking her head around the door.
“I heard a voice.”
“Yeah, it’s Tristan. Remember, the guy who owns the dog home where I work?” Maya turns to me, proving I wasn’t imagining it. Her cheeks are flushed. It moves down her neck, making her look alive and hot as hell, too. “Sorry.”
I reach forward, don’t stop to think about it, cupping her cheek and stroking it softly. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”
She lets my touch linger. It seems to calm her down, and that makes me feel damn good.
“Oh, come in, come in,” she says.
I walk into the room. It’s clean, and the window is cracked. The woman is clearly cared for. The sight of a respirator and the clear medical frame of the bed, surrounded by equipment, tells me right away she should be in a home. Maya sees me looking, then offers a frown. I get the sense she knows exactly what I’m thinking. She’s always watching, always picking the world apart.
“Mom, Tristan is—”
“Derrick?” she suddenly cuts in.
“No, Mom.” Maya’s voice suddenly wavers. “She’s on some new meds. It’s got her feeling a little spaced out. Maybe this was a mistake.”