Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I claimed her mouth, twisting my hands into her hair as she took my dick in her fist again—tight, quick, fever-inducing strokes. I want you to fuck me, she said. I lifted her onto my lap, and she slid down my cock, taking me deep inside her body.
She gasped and gripped my shoulders. I dug my fingers into her ass, moving her up and down. I buried my face in her chest. She was hot and wet and tight and she rode me with wild abandon. I never wanted it to end, but I felt myself losing control. Faster and harder and deeper and—
Fuck, I mouthed as I came all over my stomach, my muscles clenching, my cock pulsing over and over again in my hand.
Eventually, I got out of bed and cleaned up, but afterward I couldn’t fall back asleep. I lay there for what felt like hours, thinking about all kinds of things—the past, especially. The decisions I’d made that had brought me here to this place and to this point in my life. I’d come up here to start over, in a way. If I’d stayed in Ohio, where I was bound to keep running into my ex or former friends or even family who didn’t understand why I was moody and bitter all the time, I would have fucking lost it. Thank fuck for Mack, who’d understood what I was going through and convinced me to take the job at Cloverleigh. You need a fresh start, he told me. Somewhere nobody knows you. Where they don’t expect you to be anything you’re not.
And for the most part, that’s exactly what I had up here. I enjoyed the work, it didn’t require talking to many people, and I never had to apologize to anyone for who I was—or wasn’t. I hadn’t made any effort to make friends and had pretty much zero social life, but I hadn’t moved here to be social. I’d moved here to be myself, to be left alone. Friends came with expectations and questions and opinions, and I was so fucking over them all.
And as for a relationship, hell no. Talk about expectations. Why should I sign up for the opportunity to confuse, anger, and disappoint someone again? Fuck that. Even regular sex wasn’t worth the trouble, although I missed it.
I thought again about Stella on the back of my bike. Christ. Now it was going to be impossible to think about anything else if I saw her again. It had been a long time since I’d been so attracted to anyone—so quickly too. A gut reaction.
It was a good thing she didn’t live around here. I liked to think I was a strong-willed man, and I’d learned to shut off my feelings a long time ago, but even I might find it hard to resist a woman like that if we were alone in the dark.
Especially if she kept bringing me food.
Emotions were one thing, but hunger—of any kind—was another.
I’d keep my distance.
Seven
Stella
That night, I had the sweetest dream about Ryan.
We were walking in a beautiful field of wildflowers on a sunny afternoon, holding hands, a gentle breeze ruffling our hair. Butterflies flitted about, birdsong filled the air, and only a few puffy clouds hung in the sky. Up ahead we noticed a grassy hill, and he tugged on my hand, pulling me to run up it with him. Breathless and laughing, we reached the top and then rolled down the other side like children. We ended up at the foot of the hillside, side by side on our backs.
Then he rolled over so he lay on top of me, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest. He brushed my hair back from my face. He traced my lips with his finger. He whispered my name.
I want you to kiss me, I said.
Then his mouth was on mine and his lips were opening and the stroke of his tongue sent shivers throughout my body. I widened my knees and felt the weight of his hips settle between my thighs, sensed the hard length of his erection through our clothes. My hands touched his face, his neck, his shoulders. They wandered down his chest and around his back. I wanted to pull him closer. I wanted his skin on mine. For once, I wanted to set my body free to move without inhibition, and not simply let sex happen. I wanted him to feel the way I needed him. I wanted to arch and tilt and roll and writhe and beg and moan and plead and whisper and sigh. I wanted us both to let go and lose ourselves to each other.
I woke up panting, my skin damp beneath my pajamas. Opening my eyes to the darkened room, I was momentarily confused about where I was—my bed was facing the wrong way. Then I remembered I wasn’t in my own room. I was visiting Grams.