Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
His lips are so close, and my pussy moistens in anticipation as he leans closer. My heart's racing, my blood is singing, and my body is screaming in relief. Finally, finally. I close my eyes, holding my breath, waiting…
"Godammit." He shoves away from the wall, away from me, his features twisted in an ugly snarl. "God damn you."
"Me?" Tears fill my eyes all at once, and I can't fight them off. I want to – God knows I do — but I'm already too overwhelmed. Like someone put me in a blender and scrambled up everything I thought I knew and wanted.
"Was this your plan all along? Huh?"
"My plan?" My mouth falls open while I sputter in confusion. It's like I went from a hot tub to an ice-cold lake all at once. I'm still in shock. "That's really what you think of me? Like I'm some kind of schemer who just wants to get into your fucking pants? Do you know how insane that sounds?"
"Do you know how pathetic it is to come up with reasons to get me in this position?"
"Newsflash: I really did want lessons."
"No, I don't think you did. I think, at heart, you're the same manipulative little snake as your—" His head whips back and his mouth snaps shut while his face goes red. The stale basement air goes cold and heavy.
"Say it," I whisper, glaring at him. "Go ahead. Say what you were going to say. Be a man. Get it off your chest."
"I shouldn't have—"
"You were going to compare me to my mother, weren't you? And here I was, about to tell you that you made me feel safe. That you are the only thing that has helped me forget what happened. You touch me, and it all disappears. All the memories, everything. Even before, when I started to panic. You brought me back from the edge. You knew just what to do. And I was going to thank you for that until this bullshit."
He runs his hands to his hair, breathing hard, before groaning. "Listen. I'm glad, I am. I'm glad I can do that for you. But dammit, you know that this is wrong as well as I do. I told you, we will not cross that line again."
"Says the guy who poked me in the ass with his erection."
"Which you tried to take advantage of!"
"Give me a fucking break!" I scream, and the sound is only louder and more deafening, thanks to where we are. But I'm glad for that. I want him to hear me. I want to fill the space with my rage. "You think this is all about you? Get a fucking clue! Yes, I need help and you've been there for me, but my every waking thought isn't about you, Romero. What can I do to scheme my way into your pants? Are you really that fucking full of yourself, you asshole? Oh, but I forgot. Everything's been about you since the day you showed up at my house."
"What?"
"You heard me. And yeah, you reminded me of it the night you got drunk." I love hurling that in his face, knowing how upset it makes him. Good. He deserves it. "From the very beginning, all you wanted was to be the golden boy. To make my father proud of you. It's like he practically forgot I existed. And pretend all you want like you didn't notice it, but it's true. He got the son he wanted. And you got the dad you —" It's my turn to close my mouth in shame. That's beneath me.
"Go ahead," he mutters. He's not even blinking, staring at me with an intensity that makes me wish I hadn't said a word. "Say it. Get it off your chest."
"No," I whisper, shaking my head. "I won't."
"Doesn't matter. I know what you meant." He paces, and there's nothing I can do but stand here and watch. "Listen. I'm glad you're feeling better. I really am. That's all I want for you – I don't care if you believe that. It's true. All I want to do is help you find your confidence again, and not because I want to score points with your dad or whatever you think. There are people in your life who miss the old you."
"How would you know?"
"I just know."
"But how?"
"Don't be a child." He's so cold. So cruel and dismissive. In other words, he's the Romero I've always known.
"Don't be a coward. Answer the question."
"I won't let you goad me into this, so you might as well save your breath. "He stops and stands still, shoulders thrown back, his chin lifted. "That's the end of the lesson for now. I'm getting in the shower."
And all I can do is lean against the wall and fight back angry, disappointed tears.