Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
The eager excitement in Nessa’s eyes starts to dim. “Thinking about it? Hell, I’ve been thinking about it. I bet ninety percent of the women he meets think about it.”
I give her a dark look, not liking the sound of that. But since I’m a good friend, I finish her drink, pouring the espresso in, checking that the crema foam rises to the top, and then setting it in front of her before making my own.
Once I’ve sat down too, I take a sip. “Ahh,” I sigh. Nessa slaps the table, reminding me to get on with my story, seeing as I invited her in to share it. I swallow, not the strong morning brew but my nerves, and tell her, “He came over last night after they finished working, ended up helping me do the dishes, so I fed him lunch leftovers as a thank you.”
“And…?” Nessa prompts, pointing at me. “That twinkle in your eyes isn’t about leftovers.”
“I thought he was gonna kiss me again. He didn’t, but I wanted him to.” That admission alone is a big share for me, but I add, “And he said he’s been thinking about me, wondering if I fuck as good as I fight.” Nessa grins triumphantly, like she has anything to do with it. I lean forward, even though there’s no one around to hear me reveal, “He said that he does.”
Three, two, one… We both dissolve into giggles. I can’t remember the last time I giggled. It’s probably been longer for that than since I had sex.
“You have to find out if he can put his dick where his mouth is,” Nessa orders me, then pauses, replaying what she just said. Hearing that it’s hopefully accurate, she nods. “You deserve a good dicking, girl.”
I gape at her stupidly, then try to cover it by taking a sip of my cafecito. “I can’t just fuck him for fun.”
“You absolutely can! That’s exactly what you do,” she argues. When I don’t relent, she says, “You know about my situationship?” She pauses, and I nod. “Yeah, we have an understanding. Neither of us has the time or desire for a real relationship, but what we do have is amazing chemistry. So when the timing’s right, we hook up, scratch that itch in the best way possible, and then go on about our lives a little happier, and a helluva lot less stressed. Sex doesn’t have to be some magical, mystical, big damn deal that only happens when we’re in love and leads to marriage 100% of the time. It can be fun… and messy… and hot… and easy.” Nessa squirms as she describes what sex can be before pinning me with a hard look. “If you let it be. And you need to let it beee, girl.”
I know that’s true for Nessa, and I’ve never given it a second thought where she’s concerned. I just cheer her on and give her a high-five when she shares a particularly sexy story, like a good friend should.
But me? I grew up thinking my first time to have sex would be on my wedding night to a man my parents loved, who loved me, and who was also a virgin. It was ingrained into me along with all my parents’ traditional values. And while I’m definitely no virgin, I’m not exactly super experienced, either. I’ve dated a bit, but the full-blown relationships I’ve had were all long-term, parentally approved, with a potential end goal of a happily ever after. They also didn’t center sex as a big factor. Well, with Roman, it was definitely an issue, but that’s because he was screwing nearly every girl he met, not only me.
Could I do what Nessa’s suggesting, have sex with Kyle and it not be a thing? For him, probably. That’s how guys are. For me? I don’t know. I’ve ripped out a lot of the pages my parents wrote their lessons onto, but a casual hookup with a muscled, motorcycle-riding, pierced, hot guy who’ll move on in a matter of weeks seems like an even bigger lesson to tear up.
Sensing she’s pushing my limits, Nessa takes a heavy draw of her own drink. “Fuck, you’re gonna give me palpitations,” she claims, patting her chest over her heart. “I better get going, anyway. Have two more big orders scheduled this morning, and hopefully, I can pick up a few more through the app.” She takes one more sip, moaning in delight, before making her way to the screen door, where she stops and turns back to me at the kitchen table. “Just think about it. He’s sexy, willing, and at a minimum, gives good dirty talk. All signs to go for it.”
She’s barely through the door when I hear her say loudly, “Oh, hey there, Sugarbear! I didn’t know you were here already. Bright and early, ain’tcha?”