Total pages in book: 212
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
Though she wasn’t talking, I counted three times in two minutes her making the sound a person makes when they’re pulling in breath, and you know they’re about to say something but instead they shut their mouth.
Finally, her breathing went even.
I lay there a good while, making sure that breathing stayed even as I got out of bed, pulled on my jeans, grabbed the half joint from the ashtray on the dresser and tucked it behind my ear before heading to the can to take a leak.
I’d forgotten my lighter, but it didn’t matter as I was heading for the front lounge anyway, so could just grab another book of Roadhouse matches.
I took in the quiet for a good five or ten minutes, having a shot of whisky and a smoke before I looked out the window and saw Pudge coming up the outside stairs, the cherry of the cigarette dangling from his lips partly illuminating his face.
He still had a bottle of booze open on the bar top. Beside it was a bible.
The beep of his accessing the door sounded before he slipped back in, holding his Maglite.
“Checkin’ up on me?” he accused, eyes hitting mine.
I shook my head. “Just came out to smoke a dube and throw back a shot. The bunny’s been restless, so I need some extra help sleeping. You want some?”
“Hell, yeah, I do.” He took the third of a joint from me, took two hauls and went to pass it back.
I waved my hand. “Keep it.”
“You gonna ask if it’ll make me pass out?” He cocked his right eyebrow.
I snickered. “If I do, you gonna wanna rip me a new asshole?”
“Might do,” he fired back and then his straw-colored hair-covered mouth split into a grin.
“Then I won’t ask,” I said.
He threw his head back and laughed before slapping me on the back.
So, Pudge and me were obviously good now.
“Night brother,” I gave him a two fingered salute.
He returned it and turned the TV up. One of those evangelical preachers was on the screen.
When I opened my door, the light from the hall showed me she was asleep on her belly on my side of the bed.
Fuck sakes.
“Hey,” I called out.
Nothin’.
I leaned over, close to her ear.
“Yo,” I tried.
Still nada.
“Gianna!” I said, louder, wondering how the fuck she could be in a deep sleep already, especially after sleeping all damn day.
She rolled from her belly to her side. But not far enough over.
Fuck my life tonight.
I dropped my jeans again, then got in on the edge of my bed and grabbed her shoulder and her hip and shoved her further over. She teetered and nearly went over the edge on the other side, so I jerked her back in the nick of time, making her startle awake.
“Huh?” she asked, disoriented.
“You were about to fall,” I explained.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Her mouth was maybe an inch from mine. It dawned I still had my hands on her. And she was closer to me than she needed to be.
My pulse sped up. I took in her smell. How soft she was. She wriggled her body closer and that put her tits against my bare chest. Her nipples poked me, then soft, hot palms pressed against the skin of my chest.
Toes wiggled against the sole of my foot. And as she pulled in breath, about to say something, I rolled away, nearly falling off the bed myself.
Fuck!
“Move over,” I grunted and yanked on the blanket to straighten it.
“Sorry, I…” She let that hang.
I growled in frustration, adjusting the pillow under my head.
She continued, “I… I thought you were makin’ a move.”
“You were on my side of the bed, woman. I tried to move you over so I could get some fuckin’ sleep, and you nearly fell.” My side of the bed? The whole fuckin’ bed is my side of the bed. This was some bullshit. “Next time, I’ll let you fall.” I huffed out frustration.
Should’ve smoked the rest of the joint instead of giving it to Pudge. I wouldn’t be steaming right now.
No, if I were high as fuck, I’d probably be balls deep inside Gianna Jones right about now.
Evidence was showing by her words and body language just then that she’d be down for that. Despite that I’d been a dick to her. Which meant what? That she’s looking to rip down my defenses?
Bad enough having her in my sheets when she doesn’t belong. No way was I fucking her. No fucking way. But tell that to my half-hard cock.
I blew out a sound of frustration, folding the pillow under my head in half to get more height. Because she had three of my pillows on her side.
Her side? Fuck that shit.
“Gimme one of those fuckin’ pillows back,” I barked, “You got three.”
The pillow came and not gently. She slugged me with it. I got it right in the face while she shrieked, “You’re a fucking asshole!”