Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
“I’m fine.” I close the robe and wrap it around my shoulders.
“You’re not.” He towers over me, and I can tell from his expression and how he’s standing that we’re not going anywhere until I tell him why there are stupid tears in my eyes. Why do I have to be so emotional? I swear it’s only him that makes me this way.
“I’ll stand here all night if I have to because what I’m not going to do is let another misunderstanding come between us,” he declares. “Whether you’re thinking some crazy shit like you’re a terrible kisser because you’ve never done it before—which, for the record, is hot as hell for me, and that happened to be my first kiss too. All the while I’m thinking I mauled you and you're disgusted with me. I mean, maybe you should be disgusted because that didn’t stop me from jacking off while thinking about that kiss.”
I open my mouth and then quickly close it. I’m not sure what I want to ask first. Not that it matters ’cause Cillian is willing to wait until I get it together. “I’m really your first kiss?” How has Cillian not done this a million times? I’ve wanted to kiss him since the first time I saw him.
“Yeah.” He nods while smirking. I’m sure it’s because out of everything he said, I go there first.
“You touched yourself and thought of me?” I lick my lips, wanting to see that for myself.
“All the time,” he says unapologetically. “Have you ever touched yourself?” I shake my head no. “I wouldn't be mad if you did, but I kind of love the idea of you only getting your orgasm from me.”
“I wouldn't mind that either,” I admit as my face fills with heat. I never talk about these kinds of things with anyone. It’s nice to be able to do it with him.
“Now are you going to tell me why you had tears in your eyes when I came in here?” I know I have to. I don’t want the misunderstanding either.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want anyone to know that you’d been with me in the room alone. You know, like doing things. Of course you don’t want anyone to know, and I shouldn’t either. It could cause problems.” Problems he doesn’t want to deal with and really shouldn’t have to. He’s not the one with crazy parents.
“Babe, I don’t care who knows. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re conservative when it comes to those kinds of things, which honestly, I don’t hate. I love that you’re all buttoned up and only I’ve seen what’s under there. So I’m definitely not going to let someone see you like you’ve just been thoroughly ravaged.” I reach up and try to smooth my hair, but Cillian snags me around my wrist, brings my hand up to his mouth, and places a kiss on my palm. “Are we good?”
“Yes, I think we’re more than good.” Then a thought occurs to me. “Um, one more thing. So you know and nothing gets confused or whatever. I really like when you…” I trail off. Gah, I hate how shy I am.
“You can say anything to me, Glenda. I want you to share everything with me.”
“I love when you call me ‘baby’ or even ‘babe,’” I finally say, and a smile tugs at his lips.
“All right. Is it those specific words or is it me having a special name for you?”
“The special thing,” I admit shyly, but hey, at least I’m saying it.
“So sweetheart, honey, little one, kitten.” He says each one before he raises his brows like he’s thought of a good one. Or one he likes. “Mine.” I nod quickly. Okay, I really like that one. Then a mischievous expression takes over his handsome face. “All right, love bug.” I snort a laugh and know he’s teasing me. “You don’t like that one? How about snookums?”
“Veto!” He lifts me off my feet, and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me out of the bathroom.
“I need to feed my cutie patootie.” I burst into laughter, tightening my hold on Cillian as he carries me through the cottage. I never want to let him go.
Chapter Twelve
Cillian
We spend the next few hours sitting in the living room of the cottage cuddled on the couch. I keep Glenda wrapped up tightly in her robe, because one look at her bare skin and I know I’d lose all my control.
My mom sent a text asking if I was coming for dinner, but I told her I was eating in the cottage, and she sent back about a million emojis with hearts and stars. I could almost be annoyed with her if that wasn’t exactly what I felt like on the inside. Although I would never admit that to her.