Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Jamie squints at me.
“And you’re friends with this person? He sounds like a perverted kook to me.”
I shrug, happy that we’re even having this conversation.
“Yeah, Brad’s gone over the edge with his fetish, but hey, we’ve all been there. I mean, not literally with sex dolls,” I correct hastily. “I’m just saying that a lot of people get unhealthily obsessed with something in their life, whether it’s SoulCycle, chess tournaments, or on-line gaming. In this case, Brad seems to be fixated on a certain type of woman who’s not actually alive, but again – to each their own.”
Jamie merely shuts her eyes while pinching the bridge of her nose like she can feel a migraine coming on.
“I don’t even want to know,” she murmurs to herself. “Dang, the world is so strange.”
Is that an opening for me? I’m not sure, but fortune favors the bold and I take the opportunity to seat myself next to her on the couch. A whiff of Jamie’s rose fragrance catches in my nostrils, and my heart softens. I want this woman. I adore her, and I’ve fucked up majorly, but maybe, just maybe, we can make this work.
“Jamie, I know that the events of last week have been distressing, but it’s only seven days. I want you to look at the breeding party within the scope of the time that we’ve known each other. Or even in the time that we’ve been intimate in New York. Surely, you wouldn’t throw our connection away because of that?”
She looks at me while shaking her head, and my heart stops. Oh shit. Maybe I misread her feelings. Maybe I’m completely wrong about everything. But then, Jamie sighs and wilts against my shoulder.
“I guess,” she murmurs. “I mean, I don’t even know what to think, Dane. Seriously, what were you doing at a breeding party? Even as a fluffer, it’s just gross that you’d touch another woman.”
I turn to her, my expression serious.
“I know, and like I said, I knew as soon as I touched her that it was wrong. I swear it. Look at the recordings of the session. I was probably in that room for fewer than five minutes because as soon as I fondled that girl, it felt wrong and I left. You must have left before me, because you would have seen otherwise.”
Jamie looks thoughtful.
“They record those sessions?”
I shrug.
“I think so. Sometimes. Club Z takes every precaution as far as I know. But upon second thought, maybe not,” I acknowledge, “because breeding parties are especially sensitive. I can see why people wouldn’t want those sessions to be recorded.”
Jamie wilts again.
“Yeah,” she says in a small voice. “Maybe not.”
Oh shit, I’m losing control of the conversation. I put a big finger under her chin, and tip her face to gaze into her eyes. Those caramel pools are full of pain, and I hate myself for putting that pain there. Swallowing heavily, I try again.
“Jamie, sweetheart, I adore you. I know my explanations have been filled with caveats, not to mention tall tales and pervy college friends, but trust me when I say I love you, and want to recover from this. Yes, I fucked up by being at the party. Yes, I fucked up by caving into Brad’s pleas. But I fully acknowledge my mistakes, and please, please, please, let me make this up to you. Give me a chance, sweetheart, because I love you so much and don’t want to go back to Wyoming with our relationship in tatters.”
Her eyes spill over with tears then, and a heartfelt sob rips from her throat.
“You love me?” she chokes.
“I do,” I say in a low voice, thrumming with promise. “So much, sweetheart.”
Jamie cries out again while throwing her arms around my massive shoulders. She sobs into my chest, my shirt growing damp with her tears, but I don’t care. All that matters is her pain, and what I can do to make up for it.
“I love you too, Dane,” she cries. “I was so upset when I realized you were a breeder, and I don’t know. I lost my mind. But I want to work together on this as well. We need to see a therapist, and we need to talk honestly about what we want, and our expectations for the relationship. But yes – let’s try to make this work because I adore you, you stupid man.”
That’s all I need to hear. My mouth swoops down on hers, hungry for her taste, her feel, and her sweetness. Passion mingles with tears as we embrace one another because so much has happened in just a few weeks. After all, I went from being her dad’s best friend, to her employer, to her lover, all in one fell swoop. Then, there was betrayal, mistrust, and eye-popping pain. But now that we’ve cleared things up, I know the curvy girl and I can work things out because I absolutely refuse to let this relationship fail. Jamie Ventura is the love of my life … and I’m holding tight for as long as she’ll let me.