Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
The thermostat is set at sixty-seven degrees. I kick it up another three, making a mental note to turn it back down after my bath. I’ll wear my flannel pajamas and throw an extra blanket over me if need be. My rent includes everything, like utilities and cable. The caveat is the power, though. If there’s a huge spike, then I could have to pay extra. My savings has dwindled with the move, and now I’m trying to replenish it as fast as possible. I know when the winter storms start hitting, roads could be closed, and that means getting to work will be nearly impossible.
I move to the bathroom and flip the switch. It has two doors, one that opens from the hallway and the other from the bedroom. A plus if you had people staying over. Since that won’t be happening, I keep the door to the hallway closed. It’s less aggravating when the heat kicks on and closes it in the middle of the night. I learned that lesson my very first night here. It wasn’t like I slept a lot the first few nights, getting acclimated to all the new noises, but that had me sitting up straight in bed. A flashback of my past life overwhelmed me, and I sat straight up, sweat coating my body and worry plaguing my mind. When I realized it wasn’t someone slamming the front door, a fatigue like no other hit me, and since then, the door has remained shut. I shake my head at the memory, reminding myself I’m safe, away from my parents and their monstrosity of a life. I pull the shower curtain out of the way, turn the faucet all the way to hot, and let the water run while I run into my bedroom to grab my book. The need to soak my tired and achy body has me wishing the water would hurry up. In the meantime, I take off my socks, unbutton my jeans, and then check on the water.
“Wow, that’s a shocker.” I pull my hand back quickly. The water pouring from the faucet is scorching hot. I turn it down a smidge, close the stopper, and finish taking off the clothes I wore to work. My reflection in the mirror catches my attention. No longer is my skin pale, my cheeks have filled back out, and I’m no longer looking like a walking zombie. I pull my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor, watching as my breasts bounce in the almost too-small bra now that I’ve put on a few pounds. I shimmy my hips, causing my jeans to fall to the floor, and I kick them the rest of the way off. The woman looking back at me is not the same person from a year ago, let alone a month ago.
She’s a warrior.
My arm bands around my back, and I flick the clasp to unhook my bra. It loosens, my hands drop, and then my panties follow suit until my clothes are all piled on the floor. I can’t help but notice the curves of my body. The tips of my fingers trail up my stomach. A shiver runs through my body, goose bumps pebble my flesh, and my hands take on a life of their own. My head tilts back, eyes shuddering as I cup each breast, my thumb sweeping over each nipple. I never thought I’d be a virgin at the age of twenty-five, yet given life’s circumstances, there was no way I’d take a chance of getting stuck in our town. It also didn’t help that everyone knew who my parents were. Not to mention when all you do is work, the friends you once had seem to disperse, making plans with others and forget all about you. I can’t say I blame them; it's the harsh reality when you lived a life like mine.
“Oh God,” I sigh. The lids of my eyes lift slightly. I’m self-confident in the way I look, but putting myself out there for a man after I’ve conditioned myself to blend in? I pinch my nipples, pulling on them, and feel the direct connection to my core. I work myself up while only playing with my breasts, knowing if I delay moving to my bare center hot and heavy, the orgasm I give myself will be all the stronger. Except today isn’t going to be one of those days. I need a release. My shoulders are to my ears, and for no good reason either. Except maybe the regency romance I’ve been reading. The duke takes his virgin bride, there are rumors that she’s not innocent, and when he takes her, there is no holding back. In fact, he bends her over, throws her skirts up, rips his pants down, and rams inside her as she cries out. Only to realize what he’s done. Well, the duke makes up for it. He pulls out, drops to his knees, and takes care of her until she’s ready.