Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I just feel so childish for having a problem with having sex, almost like it’s mentally held me in a place I was when I was in high school, nervous about prom and seeing the boy I liked in the hallway. The woman I want to be shouldn’t feel any of this.
“You don’t need to answer right away,” Gabe says, seeing my hesitation and wanting to smooth it away. He has such kind eyes, the type that suggests that he’s a good person through and through. I appreciate his care and consideration of my feelings as much as I find it infuriating that he can see through me so easily.
“How would it work?” I say, shocked that the question has found its way from a thought to something out there for the consideration of others.
“However you want it to,” Gabe answers, before anyone else has a chance. Theron, with his bulging muscles and clenched jaw, seems like he’d like to dictate the rules for everyone, but his cousin isn’t giving him the chance. Good for Gabe. The power dynamics in this place are crazy.
However I’d want it to. That’s like offering an all you can eat buffet to a person who only eats peanut butter sandwiches. I don’t know what I want. That’s the whole reason I’m having this ridiculous conversation.
“So, if I picked just one of you, you’d all be fine to stand back?” To be honest, the fact that they’re all into this idea of showing me the sexual ropes has me baffled. If there were other women here, they’d probably have shown me zero interest. Maybe that’s what I should do. Invite some friends over to defuse the sexual tension.
Except that isn’t what I want. Not really. Having ten men look at me like they’re ready to devour me is as thrilling as it is terrifying.
Theron makes a noise that sounds a lot like a growl and shakes his head. “I’m not stepping aside for anyone willingly.”
“Well, if we’re getting all alpha male and shit, then neither am I,” Carson says.
“I think you can safely assume that none of us is willingly giving up the chance to be with you, Allie.” Jonas cocks his head to one side, and then flicks the water from his slick hair the way Justin Bieber used to when he was a teen.
“So, it’s all or nothing?” The squeaky high pitch to my voice doesn’t exactly communicate confidence. In fact, it does exactly the opposite.
What would ‘all’ even look like? Dawn might be confident enough to exist at the center of a giant harem, but that’s not me. Then I remember what she told me about Kyla and how her multiple-relationship started. She went out on dates with eight men that ended up in her experiencing eight kinks. Somehow, after all of those different experiences, she realized she wanted to be with them all.
I should pick ‘nothing’. I should tell these men who are gathered around me like bees around their queen that this whole discussion is deeply foolish and misguided. I should go back to my room to take a really cold shower, put on some business attire and face the group like the professional I’m supposed to be.
I should, but I don’t want to. I want to know what it’s like to be with each of them. To feel the rough callouses of Theron’s palms and know if Jimmy fucks with as much pent up energy as he lives his life. I want to feel Russell let go of what he’s holding coiled up inside and see if Oliver likes to be in control in bed, too. I want to see Carson and Clay’s tattoos and trace the inky lines with my fingers and tongue, and rest in the warm embrace of Gabe. I want to run my fingers through Stefan’s salt and pepper hair and let Tom touch me with gentle hands. I want to know if Jonas’s cock feels as good in real life as the replica.
Most of all, I want to feel free, spread my wings, soar toward the sun, and not worry if I get burned.
I’ve not known these men long, but the conversations we've had mean I know them in a way I’ve never known a man before, and with more days to go, that feeling of connection is only going to get stronger.
“This is crazy,” I mutter, blowing out a long breath that leaves a hollow ache in my chest.
“Crazy,” Gabe says, “But awesome?”
He’s right. Crazy and awesome. Two words that shouldn’t go together but totally do.
I duck down under the water again, and the rush of the ocean around me is white noise for my soul. When I emerge, I know what I’m going to say, even though the very taste of the words feel strange and exotic on my tongue.