Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
A blanket lands softly on my shoulders, then my whole body. He’s covering me with a bigger comforter.
And…it smells like him.
I’m dead.
Just dead.
“Night, Sunshine,” he whispers into the darkness.
His footsteps retreat, the bedroom door creaks shut, and I’m alone in the moonlight on his couch.
I faked him out.
And now I’m surrounded by the clean, soapy scent of him, and the inescapable images.
Most of all by the raspy, throaty sound of his voice reverberating in my head.
Rachel.
I count to ten. To one hundred.
I hope he’s asleep.
I really hope so.
But I can’t wait anymore.
I shove my hand down my jeans, desperately seeking relief. I’m ludicrously wet.
My body sings its thank you.
I need this so badly. Quickly, I stroke myself, my fingers rewarding my hungry clit. Sparks fly under my skin, and the relief is so palpable, I nearly cry.
I replay the shower over and over.
His hand flying. His hips pumping. His ass flexing.
But most of all, above everything else, I let the loop play of him muttering my name. Twice.
My orgasm slams into me without warning, shaking my whole body. Inside, I’m shouting and crying out, screaming his name. But in reality, I’m silently aching for him as I come.
It’s not till the orgasm subsides and the tingles slink away that I fully register what this means.
He wants me as much as I want him.
17
LEFT-HANDED NIGHT CREAM
Rachel
The friendly, freckled woman in the tortoise-shell glasses is asking me a question. She sticks out her hands, showing me two bangles. “Gold? Or rose gold?”
I remind myself I’m in my shop, and peer at the gold on the customer’s left wrist, then the rose gold on her right wrist.
Left, right.
Right, left.
Good question…
Is Carter left-handed? I’d always thought he was right-handed. He eats with his fork in his right hand, but he jerks off with…
I snap up my gaze and meet her eager gray eyes. “Left,” I say quickly, then blink away my mistake. “I meant, right. Rose gold is very you. With your coloring.”
“Oh, good. I was leaning that way too,” she says, then nods resolutely, removing the gold one and keeping the other. “I’ll take it.”
“Great. I’ll ring that up for you,” I say, then grab my tablet, forcing my focus right here, right now, and not on last night. “Are you having a good day?” I ask, making small talk as I enter the bracelet’s info.
“I am. Thanks for asking. You?”
Great, if great means I’m carrying the weight of the most salacious secret and it’s driving me wild. I can barely concentrate, and I’m half-aroused as I walk around helping customers like you, AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO, SO CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE?
“Fantastic,” I answer with a big grin, then tell her the amount, and she taps the tablet screen with her phone. After a thanks and a goodbye, she takes off.
I breathe a loud sigh of relief. I survived another customer encounter without blurting out the wildest thing happened to me last night, and can I tell you every dirty detail of the time I was dick-notized? We can workshop next steps together, pretty please.
I swear it’s a goddamn miracle I’ve been able to work at all today given the state of my mind. I’ve toyed with texting my girlfriends the details, but they know Carter. Sharing what I stumbled into last night with anyone feels like crossing a line, so I’ve been holding the secret inside all day, and it wants to come out.
A throat clears. I turn to Fable, a few feet away. Her copper hair frames her face as she fixes the clasp on a pendant with a mini plier. “You’re so cheery today, Rachel. Want me to let Ava know you’ve got all the good vibes now?”
I laugh to make light of my obvious extreme horniness. I mean, my extreme happiness that’s covering up my extreme horniness. “Yeah, please let my former benefactor know.”
Then, I valiantly try my best to stop thinking about last night for the rest of this—okay, let’s start small—this minute.
A few seconds later, the door tinkles and a woman about my age walks in. She strides right up to me like she knows me.
Shoot. Is this a friend of Ava’s sent to rip me apart? Can you say online review PTSD?
“Hi. Let me know if I can help you with anything,” I say brightly, hoping she’s not from the spa posse.
“I need something for a date,” she says, then giggles like she has a secret. “The kind of thing you wore on the date last week.”
I startle, then connect the dots. “Really?”
“Yes, that combo was fire,” she says. “I’m going to wear my hair up too.”
Fable strides over, pride in her eyes. “Rachel looked good that night at the chocolate café, didn’t she? She kind of had a glow about her.”