Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
But it couldn’t be anything impossible because… I wanted him to succeed. I didn’t want this to end, either.
“All right,” I said slowly. “How about this: you have until Sunday morning to prove it’ll be worth my while.”
“Define ‘worth your while,’” he said cautiously.
“I’m strong willed. Prove to me that you can make me surrender to you.” I tilted my head up to look him in the eye. “Show me what I can only get from you.”
He laughed. “Wow. Okay.”
“You’re in?” I hooked my ankle around his.
“You’re going to be tired tomorrow night,” he reminded me. “It might not be the best time to try it out.”
“I’m twenty-five. I don’t need as much sleep as you.” In fact, I ran on very little most of the time. “I could always sneak off and take a nap.”
He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip as he considered. “I’m not going to be comfortable if I think you’re not in a good space.”
“It’s going to be after my brother’s wedding. If you can make me zone out on orgasms until I don’t care about anything else, that is the good space,” I argued.
He was losing a battle with himself. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to push. But I needed something to look forward to.
“You’ve been the bright spot I didn’t anticipate this weekend,” I went on. “I had planned for it to be miserable.”
“Well, I don’t want you leaving an Ashe-branded property feeling that way,” he said with a soft chuckle. “All right. Await your orders.”
The answer sent a thrill through me that translated into a full-body shiver. “When?”
“When I give them to you,” he said, tapping my nose with his index finger. “Now, go to sleep.”
“Is that an order?” I teased.
“It’s a condition of staying in this bed,” he warned. “Go to sleep or I’ll throw you to the alligators.”
I snuggled tighter to him. It wasn’t often I got so much skin-on-skin contact. I soaked it up until I couldn’t fight sleep anymore.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
(Matthew)
There was a bear standing right beside me.
“Now, she’s not a fan of strangers, so don’t make a lot of eye contact. The other thing that you’re not gonna want to do is make any real sudden moves toward her face or muzzle—” the woman with ruddy, freckled skin and her hair in a long braid told me, all the while gesturing quickly in the bear’s fucking face.
The bear was wearing a tiara. This was not how I’d envisioned my death.
“You know, I still think maybe it’s a better idea for you to walk her down,” I said, my voice going up a little as the maid-of-honor hooked a massive paw around my ankle.
“Daisy, no.” The woman snapped her fingers forcefully and the bear released me.
Every blessed atom of my cynicism-honed agnosticism fled my body and the Christianity of my childhood came roaring back. Please, Jesus, do not let me piss my pants in fear at my best friend’s wedding. And also, I would like to not be mauled by the bear. Amen.
Scott approached, the most laid-back groom I’d ever seen. Because it was a beach wedding, the wardrobes had been scaled back. The groom and his retinue all wore white linen button downs with the sleeves rolled up, and off-white linen beach pants folded at the ankle above bare feet. The bridesmaids all wore off-white sundresses… except for the bridesmaid beside me, who’d worn a fur coat.
I focused on the positives of the day. My best friend was about to get married. And in a few hours, I would be absolutely pounding his sister.
“You ready?” I asked, guilt and fear clawing up my throat to constrict the words.
“Yeah man, are you all right?” Scott clapped a hand on my shoulder.
I laughed. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that.”
“I’m not afraid of anything, though. You’re clearly scared shitless of this bear.” He ruffled the fur atop Daisy’s head, cooing at her in a baby voice, “Hims a scared of sweet widdle Daisy. Hims gonna poopy hims little drawers.”
“I’m letting you get away with this because it’s your wedding and you can’t have a broken nose in the photos.” I cracked my neck. It did nothing to relieve what I considered a sensible amount of bear fear.
Something behind me caught Scott’s eye. His face dropped. “Oh no.”
I turned to see Charlotte, her hair down in a red-gold cascade around her bare shoulders. Her bright purple sundress, held up with thin straps tied in little bows at her shoulders, would be so easy to get her out of. I imagined pushing her into another supply closet and pulling those bows loose, peeling the front of that dress down and sucking her gorgeous—
“How did they not get the dress code?”
Scott’s voice snapped me back to reality and I was finally able to see the problem. All the guests that had been waiting under the biggest canopy the resort could find—I assumed we bought it from a circus—listening to schmaltzy covers of pop hits played by a string quartet? They had all received an invitation with a small card requesting that guests dress in white or very light pastels to “help complete the aesthetic.”