Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Well, goodnight, Charlotte. Sleep tight.”
“Goodnight, Auggie. You, too.”
He heads to my front door. But before opening it, he stops, turns around, and says, “Or, in the words of a certain boy band who lived on the walls of a young Charlotte McDougal’s bedroom: Bye, bye, bye.”
I lose it. That’s the title of a smash-hit *NSYNC song—one with an iconic music video featuring the exact same hand gesture Auggie just performed while saying the titular words—“bye, bye, bye.”
“Just a little dangling carrot for you,” he says, brimming with swagger.
I laugh. “Like I need another dangling carrot? Sir, I assure you, I’m already feeling deeply motivated.”
Auggie’s blue eyes sweep the length of my body. “Good to know the feeling is mutual.” He opens my door. “Nighty night, Charlotte.” With that, he saunters out of my doorframe with Lucky at his heels and shuts the door behind him, leaving me staring at my closed door in physical awe of the sexual attraction I’m feeling for him. Holy hot damn. I had it all wrong at Captain’s. Auggie Vaughn is one hot motherfucker. And if I ever thought otherwise, I was hopelessly distracted, stubborn as a mule, or a goddamned fool.
15
AUGGIE
Three days later
Ibarrel into my place after practically sprinting the two blocks from campus, throw my backpack onto my couch, and jump into a hot shower. At school today, I could barely concentrate on the lectures and labs, because I couldn’t stop daydreaming about Charlotte and the crazy, silly—and ultimately, white-hot—"puppet shows” we’ve been doing, multiple times per day. But every bit as much as that stuff, I’ve also been thinking about all the time I’ve spent with Charlotte, fully clothed and hanging out. Damn, I’m having a blast with that woman.
In between shows, we’ve settled into a routine of sorts. After our first show, we walk Lucky together—take him to that little park for a game of fetch. While there, we grab food or a smoothie and talk. Unwind. Make each other laugh. And then, head back.
After our second show, we cuddle up on my couch to watch a show or movie, but always wind up talking again. And after the third and final show, we grab a full meal . . . and talk and cuddle and hang out some more.
Put it all together, along with all the naked fooling around we do during our shows, and all the time I’ve been spending with Charlotte feels like the best romantic relationship of my life. Except, of course, that’s not what it is. And I know that. Somewhere in my brain, anyway.
Aw, fuck. I’m catching feelings for Charlotte and I know it. But how could I not? I’ve never felt this comfortable, this fast, with anyone. And I’ve also never gotten naked and fooled around this much, on a daily basis, over and over again, with a single girlfriend I’ve ever had. So in the end, I can’t help finding the whole thing extremely confusing.
I get out of the shower, dry off, and trim my facial hair. After that, I pat on some of the new aftershave I had rush-delivered after calling my brother, Max, last night for a recommendation. Before my brother met his wife, he used to be quite the successful lady killer. So, of course, he’s the one I called when I decided to try to make myself as alluring to Charlotte as humanly possible in anticipation of today’s batch of shows.
Last night, Charlotte said she’s planning to introduce a “new element” into today’s performances, but she didn’t specify what. I didn’t ask, since she’s now our fearless leader in all porny things, and I’ve learned it’s much better for me to simply go along for the ride and not know what’s coming. That’s how I keep from overthinking, I’ve discovered. But logic would suggest that Charlotte’s new element is almost certainly the introduction of full-throttle oral sex into our shows. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. I swear, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy more in my life—and that’s a mighty big statement coming from a guy who’s pretty much obsessed with doing it when I’m into someone.
I look at myself in the mirror. This is as good as it gets with me. I’m ready to roll. Or rather, to make some more porn palmed off as puppetry.
With a skip in my step, I head out my door to Charlotte’s and knock, and a moment later, there she is—the amazing woman I had the distinct pleasure of playfully slapping across the face with my hard cock yesterday during an “interrogation” scene that quickly went off the rails in the best possible way.
“Hey there, partner,” Charlotte says brightly. She widens her door and I follow her inside. Two steps in, I’m met with Lucky greeting me happily. But after only a couple of head scratches, he hops back over to Charlotte and stands at her heels.