Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Just tell ‘em you’re sick or something,” Brandon murmurs, folding himself over, so his torso covers my whole back.
His mouth is next to my ear as he whispers, glancing at the messages for himself.
“Tell ‘em you’ve been teaching someone else a lesson for a change… Tell ‘em you quit,” he adds.
He makes it sound so easy to do. So final.
As much as I don’t want to, I separate myself from him, and rolling onto my back, I sigh bitterly.
“It’s not that easy,” I explain.
“The professor in charge of tutoring just called my dad to ask where I was or if he’d seen me today,” I add.
“Oh,” Brandon says, catching on to the gravity of the situation.
“You were just helping me. Forgot all about it,” he offers, working his post-orgasmic brain, trying to find an easy solution to my problems so we can get on with what we both want instead.
“I gotta call him,” I murmur, starting to fret and worry again.
Shit!
All the feelings, all those responsibilities of my own I thought I could just replace with Brandon. They’re already starting to come back to bite me on the ass.
Brandon slides onto his back next to me, our chests still heaving. His hand slips into mine, and he gives it a gentle squeeze as we lay silent for a while.
Neither of us wants to speak of or even suggest we just get up, get dressed, and get on with our days.
Because that’s just not gonna work anymore, either.
“Can it wait an hour?” he finally asks, catching me off guard.
“You ready to go again?” I ask him, astonished by his prowess between the sheets, but he only chuckles at my question.
“I could, sure,” he says, sounding sure of himself, lifting himself up onto one elbow again, stroking my hair back.
“But I was just gonna run us a bath is all.” He smiles. “One thing I’ve learned is that no matter how bad or big a problem is, it can always wait an hour. And my queen deserves a soak in the tub,” he says, pecking my nose with a kiss.
“One bath. And nothing else,” I caution him, holding up a finger of warning until we’re both laughing as he helps me up.
Walking me through to the bathroom like I’m an old lady, my legs may never be the same again after today.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Brandon
It’s barely afternoon, and I’ve run my queen her bath.
We’ve both missed things we should’ve done so far today, but if we’re both gonna endure the fallout from all this, there’s no point not enjoying every minute of it beforehand.
Sitting naked behind her, with her body snug against mine, I wash her hair, remarking that I had no idea it was so much work being a woman.
“What do you mean?” she asks, turning her head with mock annoyance.
“Just… all the stuff you do. Hair, underwear…,” I start to smile, realizing it’s all this ‘stuff’ about her that I’m actually crazy about now.
“You wash your hair. You wear underwear, don’t you?” she teases me and blows the bubbles I’m rinsing from her hair. I agree with a grunt.
“It doesn’t feel this good, though,” I remark. Sliding my hands from her hair down the front of her chest, making her body jerk as she clasps her hands over mine, leaning back into me.
“What are we gonna do, Brandon?” she asks me suddenly.
It’s the last thing I’m thinking about and it throws me. But I can see and feel how it’s affecting her.
“You could just sneak over here every night. Make sure you’re back home in time for breakfast,” I say, trying to make her feel better but knowing full well it’s not as simple as all that.
“Do you think your dad might already kinda know?” I ask her. “Deep down, I mean.”
I feel her shrug and shift in front of me.
May appears annoyed with herself for even bringing it up, but I’m glad she has.
“Or we could just go. Take off,” I hear myself thinking aloud. The water in the tub swishes loudly as May half-turns herself around.
“You mean…Just leave?” she asks, sounding as if it’s not the first time it’s occurred to her either.
I trace the wet hair back from her face, holding her face in my palm.
“It’s not something we have to think about right this minute, but do you really wanna stay here, in this house? In this town, tutoring kids for a few bucks an hour?” I ask.
Remembering one of the main things I don’t miss about small towns is how everybody seems to know what everybody else is doing.
And in the case of May and me, that would be none of their damned business.
“But you just bought the place, and I guess the only thing I’m really worried about is Dad. Screw tutoring,” May says, knitting her brow but not answering all of my questions.