Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
When Effie came back, breathless, and hot, I had a drink waiting for her. Every warning alarm in my head was screaming at me to get up and leave, and yet I couldn’t seem to drag myself away. She sat down heavily and waved at the others on the dance floor.
“So, you salsa!” I smiled.
“I do!” she nodded, taking a drink. “Or at least I used to.”
“Why did you stop?” I asked. “You are incredible!”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Life, I guess.”
I nodded. “Man, I know how that feels, when you suddenly wonder why you stopped doing the things you enjoyed.”
“What have you given up?” she asked, a skeptical look on her face.
“I’ve given up plenty!” I said in a mock defensive tone.
“Like what?” she laughed. “Smiling?”
It took me a second to compose myself. I was surprised she had said it, and then I laughed. I laughed loud and hard like I hadn’t laughed in a long time, and I raised my bottle to her. “Yes!” I agreed. “Smiling!”
“Well, at least you’re doing it now,” she laughed lightly, a little taken aback by my outburst.
I had the sudden urge to talk to her. To really talk, to tell her who I really was. She looked at me intensely, like she was reading my mind. I felt myself get hard again.
“I used to smile, yes, and I used to be creative, and spontaneous, and I used to do things without thinking,” I said, leaning forward and kissing her.
In my mind, this was going to be a gentle kiss. I had justified it in that split second before I did it by telling myself it was a gesture of thanks for her recognizing the fact that I needed company and offering it so sweetly to me. But when my lips met hers, tasting the sharp lemon of her drink, I found myself reaching up to hold her face, pulling her towards me slightly and willing her to respond to me. She responded instantly, her tongue flicking against my lip and sending a surge of sexual energy through me. I pulled her to me, and she moved so that we were practically hidden from view, and I felt her arch her back towards me ever so slightly as I kissed her harder. And then in a split second, it was over, and she had pulled away and was back sitting at the other side, watching the dance floor as if it had never happened.
“I…” I couldn’t think what to say, and I wasn’t going to apologize for something I didn’t regret, so I was glad when she cut me off.
“That was a mistake,” she said coldly. “We have both had too much to drink.”
She got up and left the booth, never even looking back. As I watched, she joined the rest of the group and danced with them, staying to the far side so I couldn’t even see her. I got up, went to the bar to leave some money to buy them all a few drinks, and then left. Like I should have done hours ago, I thought, my head spinning with the heat, the drink, and the confusion of what had just happened. I decided to walk home, and then realizing I hadn’t eaten anything, and lured by the smell of food, I found myself sitting in a quiet little place eating pizza and drinking ice-cold water to try to sober myself up a little. I sat there, watching the world go by and working through the events of the day, until the proprietor apologetically told me he needed to close. I left and walked home, welcoming the cool air on my face, and berating myself for fucking up almost every aspect of my life, yet again.
Chapter 19
FREYA
I SPENT THE weekend writing my resignation letter to Clover House. And packing my bag for Ireland. And rewriting the letter. And unpacking my bag. And deleting the letter, because why the hell would I resign just because that creep had put the moves on me if it meant losing a free trip to Ireland? And then pausing. Because it wasn’t as one-sided as all that. He might have made the move, but I hadn’t exactly been reluctant, and I regretted ending the kiss. And that got me thinking about his mouth. And his fingers. And how he had pulled me to him and kissed me so hungrily. Like he was starving, and I was something delicious. So really, I spent the weekend trying to banish the filthy thoughts from my head so I could think straight.
I was sitting at the kitchen table going over my trip checklist and found myself thinking of Keegan. I need him to get out of my head. My tongue had memorized his taste, and my hands could remember the feel of his strong muscles under his shirt. I needed release if I was going to see him this week. My hand slipped between my thighs, and I slowly pulled up my skirt, pretending instead it was Keegan doing it. I moved my hand close to my center and flicked aside my panties to realize that I was already wet from the memory of his kiss.