Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Your eyes really are beautiful.”
He grunts. “Don’t, Letty.”
I blink. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t say anything. Please.”
He kicks the front door shut and puts his forehead to mine. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
I smile and put a hand to his chest. “So am I.”
What the right thing is, I’m not sure anymore.
“Fuck,” he growls, and then his lips are on mine, soft, thick, and demanding. He kisses me like I’m the only woman on earth, like I’m actually irresistible. Fire courses through my veins at being thought of as irresistible to him. Then I remember. He’s drunk. This isn’t real.
One hand spears through my hair, and the other kneads my backside, producing a plethora of sensations that I am powerless to fight against. My body is on fire and full of desire that’s unfamiliar to me. The sensations that roll through my body are terrifying and exhilarating, and I want to feel more. I want to feel deeper and more intense.
A hand slips inside my panties, and I freeze until his fingertip brushes over my lady parts. My hips buck, and I moan into his mouth. Oh my goodness!
Whatever this sensation is, I never want it to end. Not ever.
Shades stops, and I hope it’s just a pause, but he pulls back with wide eyes and takes off down the hall. I’m hurt and confused until I hear the distinct sound of vomit coming from another room.
I give him a few minutes in the bathroom while I head to the kitchen, first to splash cold water on my face and then to whip up a cup of coffee to help ward off his hangover.
While I fill up the reservoir, I wonder what it would be like to let Shades touch me like that again. Would it set me on fire? Would I lose my mind?
I know the basics and the mechanics of sex, but no class or book mentions the sensation that is rocking my body right now. They don’t tell you that one touch can trigger arousal, that one swipe of the tongue can make you feel like you’re floating. It’s all so exciting and unfamiliar, and the more times our lips touch, the more curious I become about the rest of it.
“Stop,” I tell myself and shake my head. I am more than my base needs, and now is not the time. Shades is drunk, and he needs help, not sex or sex-adjacent activities.
After too much time passes without a word from him, I wander down a hall to check on him. The bathroom is empty. I peek into two other rooms, one an office and the other a guest room, so I go upstairs and find just one set of doors. Slowly, with one foot in front of the other, I head toward that ominous set of double doors and knock.
Nothing.
I knock again, but nothing. No response, and immediately, I’m on edge.
“Shades,” I whisper softly. Not a sound. So I knock again. “Shades,” I say again as my worry increases. He’s been drinking, and he could pass out, hit his head, or worse.
Without thinking, I open the door and step inside without even noticing the room décor. All I can see is miles of tattooed skin, hairy legs, and—oh my God!—a big, slightly erect penis.
I gasp and take a step back and then another until I’m on the other side of the door, heart pounding in my chest, desire pooling in my core. Wow.
I shake off the thought of that penis and what it’s meant to do, where it’s meant to go. It would never fit, not in a million years. Nevertheless, I step inside the room once more.
Step by step, I make my way to the bed. I grab the blanket by the edge as if it would bite me and drape it across his waist.
He might get cold overnight, I tell myself, but as I make my way downstairs to lie on the sofa, I wonder if my body will ever cool down.
I’ve never seen a real live penis before.
The image is seared into my brain. Of seeing him like that, up close and personal in nothing but his birthday suit. It’s wired now into my fantasies.
I lie down on Shades’ plush sofa, and all I can think about is him. Naked.
Lord, have mercy on me.
I ignore the throbbing between my legs until I drift off to sleep, where thoughts of what could happen between Shades and me play in my naughty, naughty dreams until morning.
Chapter Sixteen
Shades
A sound in the distance wakes me up. I don’t know what it is, except it alarms me enough that I jackknife into a sitting position.
“Son of a bitch,” I growl as my head throbs like a motherfucker, and last night comes back to me in bits and pieces.
Dinner with Letty and her prim and proper but ultimately nice mother.