Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Did I want Josie to help me shower? The answer was as simple as the question: did I have a dick?
But … where was Chad? When would my mom be home from her walk? What if Chief Watts discovered Josie was at my house instead of at a friend’s house? Since I managed to survive near alcohol poisoning and a tumble down a flight of stairs, I decided to call it while I was still ahead.
“I can manage.”
She averted her gaze and nodded.
I was a stupid fuck. I was just too stupid and young to see it.
“Wait for me?” I asked.
She nodded again, picking at a string hanging from the hem of my T-shirt.
After I showered, brushed my teeth, and gargled twice to get rid of the ass taste, I peeked my head out of the bathroom and listened for my mom or Chad.
Nothing.
With a towel around my waist, I took two long strides to my room and closed the door behind me. When I turned toward Josie, her eyes were huge. She tucked her knees toward her chest under my tee and leaned against the wall at the head of my bed. Her unblinking eyes drifted south to my towel and back up my body.
“F-feel better?” she croaked before clearing her throat.
“Yeah.” I felt marginally better. Cleaner. But my whole body ached, especially my head. It was hard to say if the ache in my head was from the alcohol or the fall.
“I uh … see you found a bandage?”
I nodded, touching my head.
Her gaze roved along my torso. “You’re bruised.”
Glancing down, I tried to see where her eyes had landed.
“There.” She motioned with her head.
I inspected my ribs and abs while she crawled off the bed and padded her bare feet to me.
“Here.” She feathered her fingertips along the red area on my hipbone just above the towel.
I shuddered from her touch, and that made her glance up at me. We stood idle and silent for several seconds. I needed to get dressed, but she was in my room. I should’ve taken my clothes into the bathroom with me, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Instead, I had a growing erection behind my towel because Josie touched a bruise on my hip.
And she was in my T-shirt.
And I’d gotten a glimpse of her panties before I showered.
And I’d considered rubbing one off in the shower while thinking of her in her pink panties, but I didn’t because I didn’t want to take the extra time.
I should have taken the extra time.
Instead, there I was, adjusting my towel and tucking my abs, anything to hide it from her.
“Kiss me, Colten,” she whispered, taking a step closer.
Jesus … don’t get any closer!
“Um …” I tried to speak past the thick desire clogging my throat and stifling all coherent words. I took a step backward, my back hitting the door.
Josie lifted onto her toes, slid her hands behind my neck, and pulled me to her mouth. It was a slow kiss.
I clutched the front of my towel, holding on for dear life. Her warm tongue teased the seam of my mouth, and I opened for her. Our tongues touched, tentative at first, like we’d done so many times before; then our mouths fused with more need, also like we’d done in the past.
This time was different. I didn’t have underwear and pants with a zipper and button keeping my dick under control.
She hummed, and I swore I was going to spew just from the kiss and the graze of the towel over the head of my erection. I told my other hand to remain fisted at my side.
Don’t touch her!
It didn’t listen.
It went straight to the hem of her shirt (my shirt) and worked its way up to her bare breast. Had God really existed, she would have been wearing a bra, a barrier that might have tripped my thoughts long enough to come to my senses.
No bra.
No God.
Her nipple was so fucking hard, hard like my erection. I cupped her breast and she moaned, making her tongue reach deeper into my mouth. When the pad of my thumb rubbed her nipple, our kiss faltered. Her chin dropped a fraction, and her lips pressed to my neck. I backed her to my bed. My towel hand started to weaken, but I kept it fisted.
Josie’s overly curious fingers tugged at my towel.
“Uh-uh …” I held strong. Sorta strong. My resistance weakened; and to be honest, it was downright flimsy at that point.
The only person in the world, who I gave more than two fucks about, wanted me in a way that made me feel like I didn’t need the alcohol. Like my loser dad didn’t exist. Like I had a purpose. And my purpose in that moment was to touch Josephine Watts.
Ever since the piano bench incident, the tension between us had been high. Either she hated me, or she was torturing me. Really, one and the same.