Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
He takes a few steps, looking over his shoulder at me. Leading me by the hand, I realize.
And then I take a few steps, and he takes a few more, and before I know it we’re much deeper in the woods.
This spurs the inner voice into action once again. Nova… what the hell are you doing? Did anyone see you go in the woods? Did anyone see him? Will you be taking your last breath five minutes from now?
I really do hate surprises and this is starting to feel like a surprise. So I stop. And my arm jerks a little because he keeps going. He looks over his shoulder again, turning, looking over my shoulder now. Which makes me look over my shoulder too, wondering if someone’s coming up behind me. And in that moment—in that one second that I take my eyes off him—he’s pressed up against me. Pushing me into the trunk of a tree. His hands on my hips, gripping just a little.
But the funny thing is, I don’t fight him or anything. I don’t object. I don’t say anything. I think I’m too surprised at his boldness.
Boldness? Is that the word we’re going with?
But the next moment, he’s leaning in to my ear, whispering. “Hi, Ryan.”
“Um…” I’m a little bit shocked that he already knows the name Mercer decided to call me. And this leads to a whole chain of inner questions and answers inside my head. Does he know Mercer? Did they talk about me? Is the assigning of new names something discussed before being presented?
“Am I your first friend?”
“U-um… yeah.” I let out a long breath and tip my head up to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t seem threatening. He’s smiling, which is good, I guess. And that smile looks amazing on him. Makes a single dimple pop out in the middle of his chin. And his eyes. They are so close and they are gazing at me. They are brown with a splotch of blue on the outside. Both of them have this mark. And for a moment my brain is all science, trying to figure out how the genetics might work on such a color combination.
“You know what that means?”
I shake my head, still gazing into his eyes like he’s caught me in a trap.
“It means we’re gonna be friends forever.”
“Oh.” I laugh a little. “OK.” And then I go speechless. Because his head is moving down, and his eyes are still on mine, but then they drop to my lips, and my eyes drop to his lips, and the next thing I know we are kissing.
No. No, no, no. This is not just kissing. We are not merely kissing.
This is… something else. It’s open-mouth. Tongue. Hands on my face. It is a slow, deliberate, agonizingly erotic kiss. And it goes on, and on, and on. Our mouths moving together so perfectly, like we’ve done this a million times. His thumb caressing little circles on my jaw. His teeth nipping at my lips. His hips pressing forward, grinding into mine.
And my inner voice is going nuts.
Nova! What are you doing? Why are you kissing this strange man? Why are you in the woods?
But I don’t have a good answer. The only one that comes to mind is… because I want to. And I’m pretty sure that’s not good enough.
But then there’s another voice. A stronger one. Why isn’t it good enough? Why must you overthink things? Why can’t you just enjoy something nice?
Nice? Oh, this is so much more than nice. His hands are on my breasts now, squeezing them as he grinds. His leg slipping between mine, parting them and lifting my flirty little pink skirt up so I can feel his skin sliding against my inner thigh.
A chill runs up my spine, giving me a thrill. And meanwhile, he’s still kissing me. And I’m still kissing him back. And I’m starting to think that we’re gonna do it. Right here, against this tree. He’s gonna pull those sweat pants down, slip his dick inside me, and fuck me. Right here. Right now.
And I’m going to let him.
In fact, I’m so convinced that this is where we’re headed that when he takes my hand and slides it inside his pants, I go for it. I grab him. Squeeze him. Pump him. Jerk him. Back and forth, slowly at first. Then harder. With enthusiasm.
His kisses continue, and I swear to God, I am going to remember this kiss for the rest of my life. I’m going to spend the next ten years with a vibrator between my legs, picturing this kiss as I make myself come.
One of his hands is on my face, pressed flat on my cheek. The other has pulled my shirt and bra down, exposing one breast. One nipple open to the air. It beads up and he plays with it, making it even harder. Like a little pebble.