Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“I-I am going to go into the bathroom.” I tell him, stammering and holding the shirt close to me.
“You are going to change right here, baby. Don’t hide from me, Lilah. I just sucked your nipple into my mouth and would have licked up every bit of that sap sticking to your thighs if you would have let me. You are about to sleep in my arms, little flower. No time to be shy.” his eyebrow raises like all of this is normal. I guess for him, it is, but I am about to pass out from mortification.
“Please,” I beg him on the verge of tears. I need just this one more thing. I need more time. His face softens, and his hand brushes against my cheek. He looks into my eyes and nods his head.
“Please don’t cry, little flower. Your tears will drown me. I will turn my back. How is that?”
“Fine.” I wait for him to turn before I strip and change as fast as I can. When I am sure I am covered in this behemoth of a shirt, I place my belongings on the chair before I lay down and cover up.
“Fuck, you look good in my bed, baby.” And now I am back to blushing. He pulls back the covers on his side and lays beside me. Unsure of what to do, I do nothing. Chuckling, he pulls me into his body, the heat from the front of him resting against the back of me. Not able to stop myself, I wiggle a little, his bulge pulsing against me, resonating with my own beating heart. “Relax, baby. Just feel my arms around you, allow yourself to feel safe, and settle into the idea of us, little flower. It’s done.” I should be focused on his words, but his voice is lulling, soothing. I feel myself drifting. Wow. I don't remember ever being this comfortable.
“Why are you whispering?” I am startled awake by loud shouting, and it takes a second for me to get my bearings. For a moment, I am confused about where I am until everything comes back to me. “Oh, God.” I look down and note I am still in the t-shirt, and everything seems intact. The bed beside me looks ruffled and slept in, and then I remember what woke me.
“You need to leave.” I hear Blake's voice outside of the door.
“Why is that? What tart have you brought home with you?” a lady’s voice shrills into the air. For the first time since he accosted me at the library, I feel nauseous. “No,” I say to myself as I begin to feel stupid. I knew this was a game to him, but I didn't think he was actually in a relationship. Scurrying from the bed, I look around for my clothes and find them on the table on the other side of the room. As the arguing outside of the door gets louder, I move faster. When I am dressed, I look around, trying to figure out how to leave here without having to see them, and that is when I remember an article in the San Diego Gazette that said in the closet of the main room is a hidden staircase that leads to the kitchen.
I move the clothes around, pushing against the walls inside of the closet. I am about to give up when I notice a slight slit in the wall just below the shelf. Taking a chance, I push against it a little, and it pops out. “Thank God.” I run down the stairs and into the kitchen. My purse is on the counter.
“Lilah!” I hear my name, Blake calling for me, and by his tone, he has realized I am not in the room. Trying to hurry, I have my sweater when a woman steps out in front of the door.
“Who are you?” my mouth opens and closes, unsure of what to say, so I go with what is safe and true.
“No one. Just the house cleaner. I was just leaving.” she doesn’t move. Her face is sneered in disgust and disdain. I feel like a bug blotting her windshield.
“Lilah! Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Blake walks to the front door, facing me and standing between the woman and me.
“I am just trying to leave Mr. Cochran,” I say, looking at the floor, positive that if I look at him, I am going to fall apart from allowing myself even for a moment to believe this was something else.
“What did I tell you about that Mister shit, baby? You are not leaving. Not like this and without the proper good morning.” Confused by his words, I look up when he grabs my chin and slams his mouth against mine. I am caught off guard, but it doesn’t stop him. Wrapping his arms around me, he continues working my mouth and mind as I respond because, Jesus, when he touches me, I don’t know which way is up. My arms lock around his neck, and he moans into my mouth, holding me tighter like he thinks I am going to disappear. I hear a voice clearing itself, and he pulls back from me but doesn't let me go.