Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
The minute she turned and asked me to unbutton her, everything in my body came alive. My fingers worked one button after another, and when I finally unzipped her, I looked up and saw that little freckle on her back. The same freckle that I kissed when we were together. My eyes go back to the closed door as I picture her getting out of her dress and standing in the middle of my bedroom almost naked. My cock springs to action, and I bring the bottle back to my lips to calm myself down. The burning hits the back of my throat right away as I swallow the amber liquid. "This is not how I planned to spend the night." I look up at the ceiling, trying to talk myself off the ledge when the door opens, and I don't know why, but I stand up straight.
"That's better," she says, walking toward me wearing just my black T-shirt. The way she swings her hips, I see the shirt sway against her upper thighs.
"That is most definitely not better," I mumble to myself as she walks toward me, and I really hope she is wearing boxers under that shirt. Her long legs look sensational, and all I can do is watch her. She makes her way to the stool and climbs back up on it again, and I'm thankful that the island is covering the fact that I'm sure the shirt has risen, giving me an even better view of her legs.
"I didn't realize how heavy that dress was." She laughs as she sits down.
"I should go," I say at the same time that my head yells this is a bad, bad idea. She looks at me, confused. “I'm going to go and call your sisters and tell them where you are." The pressure in my chest suddenly makes it hard to breathe as my breathing now comes in pants.
"Why?" She gets up on the stool, leaning forward, and grabbing the scotch from me.
"There are a bunch of reasons," I reply. She brings the bottle to her lips, and I don't know why but they seem plumper.
"Which are?" She puts the bottle down after she finishes taking a sip. I should be happy that the gulps have now switched to sips.
"A whole bunch of reasons," I repeat, making her laugh.
"So you said, yet you can't come up with them." She tilts her head to the side. Enjoying that I’m fumbling.
"Well, for one, you just ran away from your wedding." I try to make sure that my words make sense.
"I don't know why that would matter that we are both here." She grabs the bottle again and sips it.
"And here we are, the two of us are alone." I stare at her as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Alone in a cabin. With no one else. Alone."
"I don't think you said the word alone enough." She shrugs. “Not a big deal. What's your next one?" I just stare at her now, all the words are lost from my vocabulary. “You said there are a bunch of reasons, but you've only given me one."
"Two, it's a bad idea." My head spins as I think of reasons I shouldn't stay. Why I can't stay. Every single time she talks to me, my mind goes to mush.
"Right." She giggles. “So far we have that I was getting married and it's a bad idea." She holds up two fingers.
"We are alone in a secluded cabin." My head starts to throb. I reach my hands out, putting them on the counter on each side. “I just don't want people to talk."
"Well, considering I ran from my wedding." She crosses her hands in front of her. “People are still talking."
"But I don't want them to talk about us being here." The look of hurt fills her face, and I don't know why. Then it hits me that my words make it sound like I don't want to be here with her. “I don't want you to have a reputation because of me. Someone could have been outside and saw me carry you to my truck and take off." She rolls her lips. “What if they think I kidnapped you?"
"Relax, no one is grabbing their pitchforks and coming to kill the beast." She claps her hands together. "Get it? Beauty, which is me." She points at herself. “And the Beast." She points at me. “Which is you."
"Yeah, I got it," I say, and I seriously think I'm going to have a panic attack. "You’re hilarious."
"It's one of my many talents," she says, and I miss this side of her. The side where we used to sit down and just talk after we would take care of whatever business we were dealing with. The funny Clarabella who used to just shoot the shit with me and make me laugh every single time she opened her mouth.