Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
The thought of being busted shouldn’t turn me on, but just like last month, the tension is more blistering since it’s being fueled by an equal amount of lust and worry.
I try to stay as still as possible when Caleb’s thumb joins the party. He rotates it over my clit, bringing the tension teaming between us from a nine to infinity. My skin prickles with excited goose bumps, and the wetness between my legs gets warmer with every perfect rotation of his thumb.
While toying with the nervy bud, he pumps in and out of me on repeat. It is a magical couple of minutes that could only be more brilliant if I could voice one of the many moans clogging up my throat.
“Don’t moan. Don’t you dare fucking moan, Jessie. Keep them in.” Caleb presses harder on my clit, doubling the screams begging to rip through me. “This is your punishment for teasing me, for making out you could get this level of heat from someone else.”
My climax is right at the finish line.
It is blistering and on the verge of boiling over.
Then I fuck it up.
“That… wasn’t… what… I… was… doing.”
I curse my stubbornness to hell when Caleb stops pumping his finger in and out of me before he wholly withdraws it. “Oh. You weren’t? My bad.”
“Caleb,” I say on almost a beg when my panties soak up the mess he made between my legs.
Before I can embarrass myself more, Caleb raises his hand to his mouth then pops a glistening digit between his plump lips. The violent shudder that tears through me from watching him suck off the evidence of my impending arousal from his fingers wakes Octavia.
It will most likely cause a tsunami in Fiji too.
As she jolts awake, the terrified shout of a man’s name rips from her mouth. Her chest thrusts up and down in rhythm to mine as she darts her eyes between Caleb and me. She looks as mortified as me while stammering out, “Oh… uh… I must have… um… fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.” She leaps up from the couch like she was in the process of climaxing, straightens her shirt, then says, “I better get going.” She won’t look at me while murmuring, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When she races out of my home like her ass is on fire, I snap my neck to Caleb so fast my chiropractor three blocks over screams in protest. “You…” I’m too angry to form words, so instead, I smack Caleb across the chest, my frustration too high to recall his dislike of being touched. “She heard us!”
“No, she didn’t,” he says with a chuckle before his face goes deadpanned. As his brows inch together, his smile slips from his face. “She had a nightmare.”
With his cheeks as white as Octavia’s were when she bolted out of here, he tells me he’ll be back before he races out the door she darted through only seconds ago, leaving me unhinged both mentally and physically.
CHAPTER 12
CALEB
Octavia’s eyes sling to me when I enter our apartment at the speed of a rocket. “How long have your nightmares been back?”
“They’re not back. I ju-just—”
I cut her off with a glare. She only stutters when she’s lying.
While dragging a hand down her tired face, she plops her backside onto the springless couch in our living room. Even without it having any springs, it is ten times more comfortable than the portion of floor Jess assigned to me when I followed her into the living room like a movie marathon would stop me wondering how many of her shirts I’d need to purchase for her to have one whole shirt.
Minuscule—the word is too significant for the skimpiness of Jess’s shirt.
I get my head back into the game when Octavia confesses, “They restarted last month. They’re not about… him.” Her tone could only be lower if it were at the bottom of the Mississippi River when she adds, “They are about the boy he was hurting.”
Although the scent of Jess’s almost arousal coating my palm doesn’t have me in the right head space for the conversation, I’ll never be ready for it, so I may as well suck it up and deal with it.
After joining Octavia on the couch, I mutter, “If they’re not about him, why did you shout his name when you woke?” I keep my tone as neutral as possible, ensuring I don’t shame her more than the pillars of the community did when she told the world our grandfather is a pedophile. I pledged not to be happy before her, so there sure as hell is no way I’m going to make her believe she’s a bad person for doing something good.
It takes strength to speak up.
A strength I’ve yet to find.
Octavia waits a beat before whispering, “Because it’s what I should have shouted when I realized what he was doing. I should have stopped him.”