Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
When the peak finally hits, it seizes my whole body. My rhythm falters. I try to get impossibly deeper inside her. Even though it’s hopeless, I still sweat and growl and charge ahead, pouring out every ounce of need into her. Something thick and unfamiliar backfills its place. I can’t identify it, but it’s sweet. It attaches me to Bethany in a way I’ve never felt. It makes me grip her harder, spill the last drops of my soul into her, and cling as if only she can somehow save me.
As if, regardless of who she is or what’s happened in the past, with her is where I belong.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dawn is a promise on the horizon when I slip out of Bethany’s cottage and tiptoe to the main house. She’s still sleeping, wrapped in the limp sheets and cozy blankets we shared last night.
Other than Bethany, I can’t remember the last woman I actually slept beside for more than an hour or two. I usually don’t like touching a lover in my sleep. But, as seems to be the case with a lot of things, she’s different. All night, Bethany kept curling away from me on the far side of the bed. More than once, I rolled closer and dragged her body against me, wrapping my arm around her waist and burying my face in her neck. I woke up to her scent, to the feel of her backside against my cock, which stood hard and eager to pleasure her again after a peaceful, uninterrupted night’s sleep.
Since Dad’s sudden death, that’s unusual, too.
I let myself in the main house’s back door, hoping not to see anyone, and promise myself I’ll start mentally unpacking last night after coffee.
As the brew drips into a spare carafe, I rummage around to find some fruit and a few pastries Keeley keeps on hand. As I toss everything onto a tray I find in the pantry, my phone buzzes. I almost ignore it—until I see the display.
“Bret?” I answer my middle brother. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just checking in, making sure you’re okay. Happy New Year, bro.”
“Sorry I didn’t call yesterday. Tending bar the other night was a bitch. I think my feet are still recovering,” I try to joke, all the while wondering why Bret is calling so early…and what I’m going to tell him about Bethany. I know how he’ll view the situation—and that he’ll see what’s happening between her and me as a betrayal.
“It’s cool. I would have called sooner myself, but man, was I hungover. I’m so glad class doesn’t start for a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah. Listen, not to nag, but it’s time to lay off the booze and start focusing on the future again.”
He’s quiet for a very long time. “Yeah, I know. And I know you’ve had it way worse than me, watching Dad die and being helpless to stop it. But I keep realizing that I’m twenty-one, and both of my parents are already gone. Basically, I’m an orphan. And every time I think about doing things like finding my first job, buying my first house, or getting married without them giving me advice or cheering me on, it scares the shit out of me. I’ve got no safety net.”
I understand exactly how he feels, but he’s wrong. “I know it’s not the same, but you’ve got me. I’ll always be here for you. I don’t profess to know everything, but I promise I’ll help you figure it out as best I can.”
He sighs. “Yeah, and I appreciate it. I’m aware that I need to adult and to stop leaning on parties and vodka to get through this shit. I’m just trying to figure out how. It will be easier once you nail that fucking bitch. How’s it going, by the way? Get anything from her yet?”
I wince. What the hell do I say? Bret is convinced that if I pin Dad’s death on Bethany, his pain will vanish. Looking back, I pretty much thought the same.
“Listen… Now that I’m here and looking into all the facts, I think we may have gotten it wrong. She’s not who you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“Based on what I’ve been able to find, I don’t think she was involved with the theft of Dad’s money.”
“What? How is that even possible?” he shoots back hotly. “She was his financial advisor. She had the pulse on his investments. According to you, she fucking lied to him, didn’t care that he died of a massive heart attack after he got the news, then skipped town. What suddenly changed?”
“Bethany and I work together, so I’ve spent some time actually getting to know her. She doesn’t have a greedy or vicious bone in her body. I even had the chance to search her place and found nothing incriminating. I just don’t think she did it.” When he answers me with shocked silence, I feel compelled to fill the void. “Bret, there are two sides to every story. I don’t know all of hers yet but—”