Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
She’s all heavy breaths. “I don’t need to talk about it. I know you want to go slow, and it’s not time yet. I was just making sure you’re sure.”
“I’m sure that the next time I’m naked in a shower with you, I will fuck you in there, Luna,” I tell her. “Very sure about that.”
Her lips part. “Glad we nailed that down.”
“Jesus wasn’t the only carpenter,” I say.
Her smile hits her amber eyes. “You’re a carpenter with magical hands,” she tells me. “Keeping me alive is so very thoughtful of you.”
“Would never let you die.” I squeeze her kneecap, then tilt my head back and squirt drops in my dry eyes.
I feel her watching me. “Even though we’re not having sex, we can still talk about what you’d do to me, right?”
She loves being teased to near-torture. It’s been a massive turn on for me too. “What I’m gonna do to you every night, you mean?” I slip her a grin.
“And morning,” she smiles back. “You can’t forget the mornings.”
“Morning fuckings are a must for my space babe.” I add another drop to my left eye, then rub the excess liquid out of the crease with my wrist. “It’s no joke either. Once I break the seal, I’ll be honoring every sexual thing I’ve ever said to you.”
She releases the sexiest breath, like I just entered her. She clutches the bathrobe at her thighs, and I harden again. Especially as she says, “If I need it, we’ll have to do it immediately and in weird public places.”
Fucking in weird public places—that has my name written all over it. Hers, not so much. She’s famous, but I think I can manage this without anyone seeing.
“Public bathrooms, private planes, the back of a car, then we’ll get weirder,” I say. “I’ve got your needs covered, girl.”
She’s flushed and keeps her knees fastened together. If I see her pussy right now, I will drop to my knees and eat her out. Temptation is real.
“Handcuffs?” Luna asks with shallow breath. I grin, until she says, “You can handcuff me to the bed.”
My whole stomach plunges out of my body. All I see is her handcuffed to that bed in that rowhouse on that night. I’m rigid, and I think I nod. Can’t be sure.
She’s tensed. “Donnelly?”
I keep my hand on top of hers, but I take the other off her knee. Just to run my fingers through my wet hair. “That’s…” I literally can’t fucking speak. Can’t say anything else. My nose flares, and I’m staring at the wall.
“Can you…can you look at me? What’s wrong?”
I look at Luna. I hold her worried gaze, and I manage to say, “I don’t think I can do that—handcuff you to the bed.”
She frowns. “Why…?”
I’m shaking my head. “Please don’t…” Don’t ask me. I can’t tell her. I don’t want her to know why. My chest is on fire. My ribs are contracting around my lungs, making each breath more strenuous.
“Okayokay,” she says fast. “It’s okay, Donnelly.”
I rub at my eyes. “Maybe I can do it—”
“No, I don’t need it. I don’t even want it if it’s something you don’t want.”
Alright.
Alright.
I exhale a long, measured breath, releasing the tightness off my chest. “You sure?” I look at her again.
She hooks our pinkies. “Yes, with a good earthly promise attached.”
I toy with one of her bathrobe’s alien antenna and start to smile. “I love you, you know that?”
“Yes.” Her eyes well. “I love you too, do you know…that?” She blinks, her gaze drifting beyond me, as though she’s thinking hard about something. Her brows pleat, and her lips fall farther open.
My face drops. “Luna?”
Her breathing becomes erratic and ragged. She’s not staring at anything. It’s like she’s zoned out in her head. “Luna, Luna,” I say, rattled suddenly. I wave a hand in front of her face. She’s not responding.
I touch her wrist, and her pulse thumps hard and frenzied against my two fingers.
“LunaLunaLuna.” I take my hands off her completely, done with our game. Is she having a panic attack? I pull down the hood of her bathrobe and clutch at her cheeks. “Hey, look at me. Luna.” I tap her cheek repeatedly. “Babe, come on.” She’s breathing even harder. Come on. Come on. “Luna!”
47
LUNA HALE
Memories.
It’s strange how some are so vivid, so vibrant that you can almost smell the very room you’re in, while others are fogged hazy pictures. Snapshots with burnt edges and discolored film.
This memory transports me.
I smell the room: musty mold, cigarettes, and a sourness that roils my stomach.
I hear the voices downstairs. Mutterings and curses from men I don’t know. Voices jumbling together in mix of “we fucked up” and “where is she?”
I see him.
Coming into the bedroom. Fear, concern, and sheer rage latched to his eyes.
I see my mom in the driver’s seat. I feel arms around my waist, pulling me away from her.