Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I chew the inside of my cheek, knowing that he's referring to the hot tub.
"Okay," I say, fighting the urge to ask him for a copy of the video of what happened between Kaylee and me.
"I'll let you know if I find anything on Tkachenko," he says, easily dismissing me.
I stand and roll the chair back to the conference table.
"Thanks, man," I say, before leaving the room.
I figuratively pat myself on the back as I climb the stairs for not actually asking for a copy of the video, but I know the question isn't completely off the table just yet.
I swear if I concentrate long and hard enough, I can still feel the warmth of her body against mine which was somehow warmer than the heat of the water.
I have to clear my throat twice in order to get myself under control before I get to my bedroom door, not having any clue what I'm going to be met with on the other side.
I pull in a deep breath before turning the handle, praying she's fast asleep so I can just grab a quick shower and get into bed without any further interaction.
I find that I'm not that lucky when I open the door and find her sitting on the bed with her phone in her hands.
She doesn't bother to look up from the screen as I enter and close the door behind me.
I grab some clothes from the dresser and head straight into the bathroom, feeling like an utter failure when it becomes impossible to be so close to her and not be able to touch her.
Guilt becomes a part of my anatomy as I run my hand down the length of my hardening cock, and I swear my face flames with disgrace when I get myself off at the memory of that two-second kiss.
I take as long as possible to dry off, feeling as if she knows exactly what I did in the bathroom.
The egotistical side of me wonders if she did the same when she came into the room.
I know she bathed. The shower floor was wet when I came in here.
I spend another five minutes just staring at my reflection because of what the idea of her using the same two fingers I was teasing her with does to my body.
The woman might possibly be the death of me. I don't know if someone can actually die from craving someone as much as I seem to crave her, but it feels like I can.
What started out as a way to get her away from Dima and that warehouse has turned into marriage to a woman I can't seem to resist and who apparently doesn't have the same level of struggle as I do.
I'm not supposed to like her. I'm not supposed to think about her in the way my head seems to with every waking minute.
I did what I did to protect her.
She's beautiful. I knew that the second I knocked over her display at the grocery store. I see beautiful women all the time, although I've never met one who sent such a rush of need up my back before.
I've let too many thoughts inside my head, and the most concerning one is that I'm not totally sure that I want the marriage annulled. As crazy as it sounds, even in my head, I don't see spending more time with her and getting to know her better as a problem. I don't know that we're star-crossed lovers or anything, but there is this twist in my gut when I think about parting ways with her. As a man who has always listened to his gut, I know that if she wanted to go to the courthouse tomorrow to sever this bond between us, I'd have to argue the point.
The air in the bathroom only seems to thicken despite the water being turned off for several minutes now, and it forces me out of the room.
The lights in the bedroom are now off, and I quickly turn the bathroom light off, half of me praying she doesn't roll toward me when I get into the bed and the other half wishing she would.
Kaylee doesn't move a muscle when I pull back the sheet and blanket on my side of the bed.
I swear all she'd have to do is run her foot up my calf and I'd break down and beg her for just an ounce of attention. As much as I want that, I also hate the fact that I do.
I've never been a man who needed anything from anyone. I guess it's one of those consequences of growing up in a family where you've always been a prop rather than loved the way a child should be. Now I just seem to be projecting my mommy and daddy issues, something I thought I came to terms with long ago.