Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
But then he wins. I can’t give in to him after our first fight and let him think he can tell me what to do. I need to set a precedent for how he treats me. I’m not putting up with him thinking he’s the boss of me. If I give in now, I’ll pay for it for forever.
I need to stick with this, and if I do want to leave in a few months, I will, but on my terms and when the time is right.
But these positions don’t come up for months after they are advertised, anyway. By then, if I’m successful, I will have a good idea of what I want to do.
I mean, even if I got it, I don’t have to take it. I can always decline the offer, I think for a moment. Yeah, sounds like a plan. I click on the apply button for the job. The agency has all my details. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.
* * *
I sip my wine as I dance through the kitchen. It’s Thursday night. I walk back out into the living room and stare at our new rug with the hugest goofiest smile plastered on my face.
I can’t stop looking at it. I move a chair so I can see it a little more, and then I move it back. I stand and look at it from one angle, and then go to the other side of the room to look at it some more. I take another photo of it and stare at it on my phone. I’ve been doing this for an hour. I just love it. It really sets the mood and changes the entire feel of the place.
It’s massive with beautiful hues of green and pink. It cost a bomb and got delivered today and I am loving myself absolutely sick.
I adore this apartment already. It’s beautiful and feels so special.
Our first real home.
Picking furniture and art for it together with Nathan to make it ours is my new obsession. I’ve been stalking Pinterest all week.
I text Nathan again.
Hurry up
A text bounces back.
Jesus, woman. I’m on my way.
Surely a rug can’t be this exciting?
I’ve texted him three times since it arrived already. I text back.
You’re wrong.
This is the rug of my life.
HTF UP!
I continue to cook dinner, and twenty minutes later, I hear the key in the door before Nathan comes into view.
I skip across the kitchen to get to him and throw myself into his arms. “Oh my God, wait till you see it,” I gush.
He chuckles as he holds me in his arms. “For God’s sake, show me.”
I lead him out and hold my hands up toward the monumental rug of my life. “Tada.” I smile.
“Ah.” He nods as he looks at it, hands on hips. “Looks good.”
“I know.” I beam. “Isn’t it amazing? I think the green arm chair is now a definite yes, and we’ll get the ottoman, too, and put it over here by the window for you to read in. What do you think?”
He smiles as his eyes linger on me.
“What?” I shrug, slightly embarrassed by my over the top excitement.
“Nothing,” he takes me into his arms and kisses me tenderly. “I missed you today.”
I smile up at him as I run my fingers through his dark stubble. “I’m so happy, Nathe.”
“I know, baby. Me, too.” He kisses me again and we stand in each other’s arms for an extended time, holding each other, unable to part. The days are long without him. “I can’t wait to get this rug dirty tonight,” he mutters against my hair.
My eyes widen in horror and I pull out of his arms. “We are not having sex on this rug… . like ever.”
His eyes dance with delight, and he unzips his trousers as if I just issued him with the ultimate dare.
“Nathan, no,” I warn as I step back from him. “Getting semen on this rug is a huge trigger for me.”
“Not getting semen on this rug is a trigger for me.” He pulls his dick out and crash-tackles me onto the couch. I laugh out loud and try to escape his clutches.
Life is good. Really good.
* * *
“The car will be here in ten, babe!” Nathan calls from the kitchen. I hear the pop of a champagne cork.
“Okay, nearly ready!” I call back as I put my earrings on. It’s Saturday night, and Nathan and I have a charity ball to attend. We seem to go to so many lately.
They are fun, but I would really rather stay home tonight. I take one last look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a white, fitted, strapless dress. My long, dark hair is down and bouncy, and I have a fancy rhinestone clip pushing it back on one side. I fluff it up at the bottom. I wish I could do my hair this good. I spent the afternoon in the salon. I’m wearing silver stilettos and holding a matching clutch. Underneath, I have on Nathan’s corset and suspender belt that he bought me. It will be a nice surprise for him later.