Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Intercourse had a population of six thousand people and the only thing we could say that we had was a Dollar Store, a gas station that served subpar chicken, a pseudo taco shop called Torts that served American food and brisket tacos, and a hardware store that was so overpriced that it was more cost-effective to drive all the way to Paris to get a fuckin’ bolt than it was to buy one from there.
Anyway, needless to say, Haggard’s place stood out as one of the nicest—at least inside—with it being completely remodeled.
When Haggard and Trista divorced, whomever the kids wanted to stay with got the house, and that ended up being Haggard.
But, if I had to be honest here, it wasn’t because they didn’t like Trista. It was due to the fact that Haggard worked a lot, and what teenagers wouldn’t want to be in a place they had all to themselves?
I was so focused on the shower, and how good it felt to have about eighty showerheads on me, that I didn’t realize that I wasn’t alone until I heard Haggard’s voice.
And, for a second there, I flashed back to an hour ago when I’d woken up to a man standing in the kitchen.
I didn’t realize I was no longer standing until the shower was shut off and there was a hot, fluffy towel wrapped around me.
“You’re okay, baby girl,” he rasped against my ear.
He’d seen me naked.
Oh. My. God.
“Haggard…” I sniffled.
He lifted me up, though, helping me stand and practically carrying me out in front of him to the counter.
When we got there, he placed me gently on the counter, and then cupped my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you were in my bathroom until I was already in here.”
I shivered slightly and looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t want to take a shower in the boy cesspit.”
He started to chuckle, grabbing a hand towel off the side wall where it was located in a ring beside the sink, then wiped off my face.
I shivered slightly at his touch and found myself leaning my head into the palm of his hand.
His grin was making my heart race, as well as other things feel really, really good—like the fact that I had most of my lower body out where he could see, and my bare lady parts were pressed against the cool tile next to his sink.
Oh, and the fact that he was holding that towel around me so tightly that there were veins throbbing in his hands.
Not to mention his lower body was wedged between my spread legs, and the only reason you couldn’t see my pussy right then was due to the towel that was draped over it at just the perfect angle.
“I don’t blame you,” he winked as he stepped back, holding the towel out to me.
Only, there was a conundrum.
If he let go of the towel, I’d have to grab it. Not to mention the fact that the only thing holding the other one up was his grip on it, too.
I slowly reached up and took the towel from him, lay it down over my bare legs before reaching up and taking the bigger towel.
His fingers got caught up in the fabric when he tried to let go, causing the towel to droop.
His eyes flared, and he turned away almost as fast as he could.
But I caught where his eyes were at, and when I looked down, I could see the dusky arc of one areola peeking out.
My lips twitched as I said, “I need to borrow another shirt.”
He was halfway to the door when he stopped and said, “There are some in my top dresser drawer. I’ll leave so you can get dressed.”
But his feet were carrying him awfully slow.
And he looked like he didn’t want to leave.
I cleared my throat and said, “Do you…”
He paused inside the open door, not looking back.
“Do you think I could stay with you? I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I watched as the muscles in his shoulder bunched and tightened.
“I don’t snore or anything, and I’m really used to the floor. We do it all the time,” I explained, hoping he’d say yes.
I mean, if I was going to take advantage of a situation, I should do it when I could.
“Um,” he hesitated. “Yes. But I’ll take the floor.”
I was already shaking my head. “I can sleep in the recliner or on the couch.”
There was no way in hell I was letting him take the floor.
Nope. No. Nuh-uh.
“I’ll keep the door open,” he promised.
I sighed and nodded my head before he disappeared completely.
Five minutes later, I walked out wearing one of his t-shirts with him nowhere in sight.
I reluctantly got comfortable in his recliner again and covered myself with the blanket that sat at the end of his bed but was never used.