Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I groaned, grabbing the keys to the room I’d arranged for James. “TMI. On that note, I’m out of here. Make sure James gets this room, okay?”
“Who’s James?” she asked, reaching for the keys.
“That lawyer. The one trying to buy the Sea Sprite.” I turned to follow the photographer’s path to the door. “You saw him at Bee Tee Dub last night.”
Her silence was deafening. I turned back to glance at her and noticed her rubbing her hands together and muttering something under her breath that sounded a bit like, “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
I took a deep breath and headed to work without another word.
7
James
While the bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, I’d still managed to crash hard after a long run on the beach just before sunset. I’d picked up a big premade salad and a few other essentials from the small supermarket in McBride and made use of the little cube-shaped fridge in my room. It reminded me of the beer fridge my roommate had in college, and it would have smelled just as bad if it hadn’t been for the overwhelming scent of bleach instead.
I could tell Sawyer and whoever else worked with him tried hard to keep the property as clean and presentable as possible, but it was clearly a losing battle. I wondered what Sawyer really wanted to do with his life. Surely he hadn’t grown up daydreaming about running an old musty motel and slinging pints at his uncle’s bar.
Of course it didn’t matter that I was trying to avoid thoughts of him. My dreams had a mind of their own and proceeded to entertain me all night long with images of his hard, young body moving through the water with sunlight glinting off every muscle and curve.
I woke up hard and gasping, assuming I’d been on the verge of coming all over the sheets for the first time in years, but then I heard odd scratching and banging sounds coming from somewhere nearby. Initially I was afraid it was the older couple in room 202 going at it again, but then my mind cleared enough to realize that I was on the other side of the property from them. In fact, I hadn’t seen or heard anyone in any of the surrounding rooms ever since I’d checked in. One room a few doors down from mine had looked like it was undergoing repairs, and I knew the flooded room was a few rooms beyond that one. Had Sawyer deliberately assigned me a room in the problematic wing of the motel? It wouldn’t have surprised me.
But of course, at the thought of Sawyer, my dick was back to full mast and my balls felt ready to shoot. I fumbled through my bag in the dark and returned to the bed with a handful of lotion, stroking myself quickly to memories of Sawyer’s ass in wet shorts. I imagined what his ass would look like out of the shorts, his pale cheeks set off against the tanned skin on the rest of his body. Or did he ever sun himself in the nude? I groaned at the thought.
Maybe he snuck up to the rooftop area above my room to ensure his tan was complete when no one was looking. I pictured him completely naked on the lounger with the sun warming his bare skin and his ass propped up in invitation.
Fuck.
The orgasm ripped through me, tightening my stomach muscles and forcing out a choked grunt as the release came. It hadn’t taken much, and I was gasping on the bed like someone who’d just been edged for an hour. Hell, maybe I had been. My dreams had been erotic and graphic.
But soon after I’d come, the banging sounds returned, this time even louder and more insistent. If this was sex, the couple deserved some kind of trophy for exuberance. But somehow, I didn’t think that’s what was going on. My mind flashed to the broken toilet earlier today, and the water flooding out across the parking lot. I had a moment of wondering if maybe the banging sound was something else going wrong, and if it was, Sawyer would want to know.
I quickly cleaned myself up and slipped out of bed, tugging on my pajama bottoms, shoving my feet into my tennis shoes, and pocketing my room key before stepping outside. The air had cooled with the loss of the sun, and a slight breeze stirred its way across the parking lot. It felt good as it caressed my bare upper body. My skin was still hot and sensitive from thoughts about Sawyer.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, my lungs filling with fresh salt-tinged air. Nearby I could hear waves crashing down on the beach, the sound a constant reminder that I was no longer in the city. I marveled at how relaxed that thought made me. Out here I didn’t need to worry about neighbors being too loud or ambulances racing by in the night or the sound of partygoers carrying up from the street. Even though I lived in a quiet part of the city, there was still always a constant backdrop of noise—horns and sirens and people going about their daily lives.