Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
The day dawns bright and beautiful. I take a long shower and shave my legs. I can take my time because I’m not rushing off to school. I left the substitute for my class with full lesson plans, so everything should be fine in there. So long as she or he has experience with younger students.
I consider things, and then I shave a little extra. I packed my good underwear. I tell myself the extra silky thongs are so I don’t show panty lines under the bridesmaid dress. Sure they are. My ovaries aren’t fooled.
For the drive, I’m in a sweater and yoga pants and my cute grey faux fur lined boots that double as hiking boots. The resort has private trails, and I’m sure Deke and I will have time to slip away and hike one of them. I get the feeling he likes nature. I remember how nice it was when he took me to the bridge on his bike.
If we have some time alone, will he cash in on the favor again? Ask for a kiss… or something more?
I’m sure we can work something out.
Maybe I should ask him. Just tell him what I want. I’ll make it clear I have no expectations. That I know it’s not a real date. That he’d be doing me another favor. The resort has a spa and outdoor hot tub. I packed a bikini just in case.
And I won’t let Scott spoil our fun. I’m hoping he’ll see Deke with me and leave me alone the rest of the weekend.
“Don’t you want to play?” crackles a creepy voice in the corner. I jump and whirl at the same time, but it’s only the stupid Jackalope toy in the corner. It’s been malfunctioning, going off at odd moments unprompted, so I brought it home from my classroom. Probably shouldn’t have bought it from a sketchy knockoff toy warehouse online.
A roar of an engine outside gives me a shiver. Deke. I toss the Jackalope into my bedroom closet and grab my suitcase.
Deke’s car is a big, black, boxy-style Mercedes with a suped up engine. Loud and growly, like his bike. He’s already out of the driver’s seat and coming around to meet me. He’s wearing his usual biker man outfit—big boots and faded T, black jeans and bad ass smirk. Of course, he’s not dressing up for the weekend.
Oh my God—I was nuts to ask him to be my date. The entire wedding party will think I’ve lost my mind.
Have I? I may have. My sexy little pink thong’s already wet. I fumble with my keys but by some miracle lock the door and race down to meet him.
“Deke.” I’m so short compared to him, I have to dance up on my toes to greet him. I throw my arms around his neck because I’m absurdly glad to see him. Because I want to thank him for doing this favor for me.
He stiffens for just a moment, and I realize I’ve overstepped. It’s not a real date, of course. I shouldn’t act so friendly. But then he wraps a big hand around the back of my neck, tugs me to tiptoe and kisses me right there in front of my townhouse. In broad daylight, in front of my neighbors—and after a second with my lips pressed to his firm ones, I don’t care. His mouth is warm on mine, dominating but not demanding. His breath is a little minty.
He tilts me backwards, so I’m just the tiniest bit off balance. Without thinking, I drop my suitcase and grab on to his giant biceps to hang on. His cock bulges in his pants, twitching against my belly.
I’d happily call the whole weekend off just so we can stand here and smooch. He breaks the kiss but doesn’t back away. Instead he presses his forehead to mine for a moment.
“Sadie,” his deep voice rumbles through me. His eyes are bright green in the sunlight. My ovaries swoon.
He backs up and helps me straighten, picking my suitcase up and supporting me with his free hand at my back.
Oh my.
“Good idea,” I say breathlessly once I’m in the car and Deke’s returned from putting my suitcase in the back. He also held the door for me and buckled me in, which is good because my limbs are jelly after that kiss. My heart is still fluttering. My ovaries are still out cold. “We should practice being boyfriend and girlfriend, just in case people ask.”
“Practice… yeah, definitely.” He puts his G-wagon in gear, and we’re off. In a few minutes, we’re flying down the road to the highway.
“I think it’s a good idea,” I insist, trying to calm the flapping butterfly wings in my belly from the kiss. “People are going to think I’m still with Scott. We’ll have to explain.”