Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Of course, he catches the pillow before it lands against his chest and tosses it back onto the bed. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”
He helps me up but doesn’t release me until I’m steady on my feet. “Wait, what is it you wanted to show me?”
“Meet me in the kitchen, and after I feed you, you’ll find out.” He heads out the door and shuts it behind him.
“Tease!” I call out.
His response is an echoing chuckle.
The same sense of foreboding I felt in my dream snakes its way up my spine. I shudder as a shiver wracks my body.
I tell myself that the feeling is probably just a result of the nightmare or the sometimes overwhelming anxiety I’ve been experiencing lately or the pregnancy hormones or the lack of a morning orgasm or any of the other thousand things that could explain the sense of doom I feel deep in the marrow of my bones.
Or maybe, it’s something much much worse.
Chapter 2
Ray
“This house is gonna be fuckin’ epic after the addition is finished. Wish I thought of it when I still lived here. Remind me, did you guys decide yay or nay on my red room suggestion?” Preppy asks. He hands me a bowl of popcorn and plops down on the couch.
I toss a kernel at Preppy.
He catches it in his mouth. “I’ll take that as a no. I should’ve known ya’ll were a bunch of prudes.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s your sex dungeon? Because I don’t remember seeing one in your house the last time we were over.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? If it wasn’t for the kids and that whole inappropriate thing Dre keeps reminding me about, I’d have a whole sex house.”
King showed me the progress being made on the addition to our house this morning. It’s all framed out now and ready to become a new master suite, additional bedroom, kitchen expansion, and big sound proofed playroom for the kids. It will take a few more months to complete, but Preppy’s right. When it’s all done, it’s going to be amazing and provide our growing family some much needed additional space. No red room. Although, now I’m thinking about sex again. Or the lack thereof.
Like I need more things to feel frustrated about right now.
“What the fuck is going on with your face?” Preppy asks, leaning in and squinting to get a better look at me.
I cover my face with the blanket, and he pulls it back down.
“I mean it. Why you frowning? Boss man ain’t laying the dick down like he used to or something?”
“Or something,” I mutter, popping a few kernels into my mouth. It doesn’t help.
It’s not King. Or sex. Or sex with King.
Which is a problem, but it isn’t the problem.
Preppy chomps on another handful of popcorn. “You know, they make medicine for that now. Say the word, and I’ll get your boy some shit that will make his dick into a fucking shuttle launch.”
I sigh and make sure the gaggle of our combined kids aren’t listening. They aren’t; all six of them are engrossed in the movie currently playing on the tv. “No. He doesn’t need drugs. At my most recent doctor’s appointment, they put the smack down on our sex life until the baby is born.”
“You mean until six weeks after the baby is born,” he corrects.
Fuck. I forgot about the wait time. “Thanks for the reminder.”
He tosses a popcorn at me and it lands in my hair. “Anything to assist you with your sexual frustration. When Dre had the twins, that was a rough six weeks. Gave myself dick-rope burn.”
“How did you get...” Understanding dawns on me. “Never mind. I get it.” I lower my voice. “But so much that you gave yourself rope burn? Really?”
“Yup.” He turns to face the TV. “Didn’t help that I used a rope.” Preppy’s face turns serious. He nods. “Yeah, with a rope.”
Time for a subject change. My thoughts turn to this morning’s unsettling weather report. “I just wish this storm would pass so we could keep going on the construction.”
Preppy waves his hand in the air like he’s sweeping my worry away. If it were only that easy. “It’s a baby storm. A cat one or two. It’s not even supposed to make landfall. It will swirl around off the coast for a few days and make its way toward its final destination and unfortunately some other undeserving town.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better about it?”
“Take it up with Mother Nature,” Preppy responds. He raises an eyebrow suggestively. “But think of how happy you’ll be rubbing one out in your new clawfoot tub if it makes you feel any better.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, masturbating in my new tub makes me feel much better about the potential catastrophic destruction of a town and possible loss of life.”