Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Thoughts of my father made my stomach turn. I switched off the shower and grabbed a towel. My eyes locked on the door connecting my room to Lucia’s. I bypassed it, climbed into bed, and laid there with the sheet tossed aside. I closed my eyes and gripped my cock, the image of her standing before me, naked, suds sliding off her creamy skin, her hard little nipples, her shaved cunt. I wanted to see all of her, to take my time. To lay her out and open her. Smell her, taste her. Sink my cock inside her.
Her eyes flashed into my mind, accusing and hard. I pumped faster, imagining her here, watching me, sucking me, squatting over my face while she took my cock in her mouth and fed me her pussy. Fuck.
I bit my lip when I came, ropes of cum landing on my chest, my cock throbbing against my palm as I squeezed out the last of it with a groan, knowing it would not be enough, knowing this would not sate me, knowing however many women I fucked, none would give me the release I needed, the one only she could give.
I woke a few minutes past five. It was a long, deep sleep, considering my usual two- to three-hour stints. I lay there for a few minutes, hoping if I kept my eyes closed, I could sleep again. Less hours to get through in the day if I could just sleep them off. But that wasn’t happening.
My cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. I picked it up. Dominic. A quick glance told me he was still pissed about the meeting. I decided to delete Dominic’s message without bothering to read the rest.
I tossed the covers back, got out of bed, and pulled the curtain aside to look outside. Dawn. The sun would rise soon.
Finding clean running clothes, I put them and my Nikes on, glanced once at the connecting door, and walked out of my bedroom and down the stairs. I used the door in the kitchen, which opened onto a large terrace. I jogged out, crossing it and the swimming pool area, and headed into the woods, running to meet the sun. It only took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone.
Gates protected the grounds, and cameras recorded all movement. The sound came from a short distance away: branches cracked underfoot, and I could hear the crunching of pine needles and leaves. Too heavy for a squirrel or bird. Deer sometimes jumped the fence, but it was rare. As I stalked closer, I heard the sounds of shortened breath. My intruder on my morning ritual run was human.
A few moments later, I caught sight of Lucia. She didn’t see me. I slowed to her pace, watching her, lean muscle working as she leaped over a tree stump and avoided a moss-covered boulder. She’d bound her long hair in a ponytail that bounced from side to side, and sweat glistened on her bare shoulders. She wore a sports bra and shorts, the white fabric bright against her lightly tanned skin. Earbuds connected to an iPhone secured on her arm told me why I was able to get so close without her hearing me.
I caught up, startling her. She stopped, clutching her chest.
“Stop doing that!” she said, pulling the earbuds from her ears.
“I was behind you for the last five minutes. You should be more aware of your surroundings.” The music was loud enough that I could clearly make out the song. Mumford and Sons. “You don’t need that anyway, not when you run in the woods.” I loved the stillness of this place, the peace I found as soon as I disappeared into the cover of the trees.
She looked me over. “You’re running?”
I nodded. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Me either.” I glanced up toward the place I ran to, a clearing on a hill that gave the best view of the sunrise. “Come on. I’ll show you something.”
I turned and ran. It took her a moment, and I imagined her mind working up some snarky comment, but then she followed. I slowed my pace so she could keep up, and we ran in silence for the next twenty minutes, climbing up the slope. Lucia slowed, her breathing coming shorter but her condition obviously good. Used to running.
“Wow.”
I heard the awe in her voice as we reached the top of the hill. The sun had just broken through the clouds, and the sky was a wash of orange and pink and red.
“This is…amazing.”
She walked a bit farther. I watched, finding myself smiling.
“Beautiful,” she muttered.
“It’s the one good thing about being an insomniac. I never miss the sunrises.”
She glanced back at me, and I realized how easily I’d given away that piece of myself. I imagined the staff at the house knew I slept little, but no one else.