Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Death for both of us looms over our heads, and that makes this moment together so much different from all the others we’ve shared.
Turning around swiftly, he gives me his back and drapes my pants over the edge of the bed. Then he strips out of his own clothing, and it’s my turn to become the peeping tom.
I try my best not to gawk at him, but I get lost in the flex of his muscles, and when his naked ass comes into view, I swallow down a bubble of laughter.
God, what is wrong with me?
He lays his clothes out identical to how he laid mine out and then walks over to the kitchenette. I grab the scratchy wool blanket and wrap it around myself, reveling in the warmth that is surrounding me.
With the fire going, my spirits have already lifted. If we can stay here for a bit, we might be okay.
Quinton scours the cabinets. Curses of anger slip past his lips, and I know he hasn’t found anything to eat. I’m certain it’s going to be a lost cause once he reaches the last cabinet, but then he says, “Bingo!”
He twists around and shows me a metal can of something. Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’ll eat it.
“While we aren’t eating at Corium, we’ll at least have water and some canned vegetables for dinner tonight.”
“Corium’s food isn’t that great anyway,” I add.
“You only say that because they give you those stupid protein shakes with all your vitamins and minerals in it.”
“Like I said, not good.”
Quinton’s lips tip up at the side, and he grabs a knife. He cuts into the can of vegetables, and each puncture into the tin makes me jump. It takes him a few minutes to get through the can, but once he does, he turns and carries the can over to the bed, along with two bottles of water. The water looks like it was petrified ten years ago, but I don’t say anything. Water is water, and I will do anything to get my whistle wet.
With him facing me fully, I avert my gaze, so I’m not staring directly at his cock. The man has no shame and wouldn’t even try to hide it if he could. I open one of the water bottles and force myself not to gulp it down and risk throwing it back up later.
“Sip it, because I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Yeah, that’s not really high on my list of things to do either,” I reply sarcastically.
We make light conversation as we pass the can of green beans back and forth, and once we reach the last few, Quinton shoves the can back at me. “I’ve eaten enough. You need it more than me.”
I hesitate, wanting to tell him no, but my stomach still aches from the lack of food.
“I… I can’t, you…”
“Take it, Aspen, or I swear, I will shove every last green bean down your throat, and don’t even tempt me. We both know I’ll do it.” The growl of his voice stops me in my tracks. I was considering arguing with him, but I don’t have it in me.
I’m exhausted as it is.
“Fine!” I huff and use my fingers to grab the remaining green beans. I shove them into my mouth and chew longer than normal, trying to savor the flavor.
When I’m done, I swallow it down with some water and lie back on the bed. Quinton quickly follows suit. The crackling of the fire and our soft breaths are the only sounds in the cabin. The heat from Quinton’s body pressed against mine leaves me feeling warm and fuzzy all over.
We lie side by side, and even though I know it’s way too small for the both of us, it feels just right. Or maybe I just think that because anything is better than the back of the truck.
That reminds me of how close I came to death and how there are still so many things I want to do with my life before that happens.
“I’m glad I didn’t die last night,” I whisper, not really to Quinton but just to the room.
“Aside from wanting to be alive, why is that?” he asks, and I shift onto my side so I can see his face.
I feel self-conscious admitting this out loud, but who knows what tomorrow holds. Hell, we might not even make it out of here.
“I’ve never been kissed before.”
Quinton’s features become a scowl. “What do you mean, you’ve never been kissed? That’s something you do in grade school.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
He shrugs. “It’s just lips touching. It’s nothing special.”
“That’s not true. Kissing is intimate. It’s passion and heart. It’s telling someone a secret with your lips. A secret only you and the other person can decode.”
We’re staring at each other now, and I can’t believe I just said all of that out loud. How could I be so stupid… all my thoughts and words become flakes of snow blowing in the wind when Quinton leans in and presses his lips to mine. His lips are like a fiery brand on my skin, and I startle at the soft caress, ready to push him away before something snaps inside of me, and I sink my fingers into his hair and hold him closer.