Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
“You taught me how to be myself. How to be happy. How to love without guilt. You taught me that, Reign. You’re the reason I know myself. You’re the reason I know what I want. The kind of love I want. The kind of a relationship I want. You’ve shown it to me, these past few weeks. You. So even if you don’t believe anything that I’ve said today, I want you to believe that. I want you to believe me when I say that you’re not a disappointment. You never were and you never will be. Not to me. Never to me. To me, you’re worth loving. You’re worth believing in. You’re worth choosing and I choose you, Reign Davidson. I will always choose you. Even if you don’t want me to.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Who: The Bubblegum
Where: The second-floor bedroom in the carriage house on the Davidson estate
When: 1:53 AM; the night Echo tells Reign that she loves him
Dear Bandit,
You left.
And it hurts.
My body. My heart. My soul.
I hurt.
I’ve lied about things to you but I didn’t lie when I said that I believe.
And I do.
~Echo
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I made him bleed one day.
On his shoulders and his upper back.
A little bit on the side of his neck too, and he told me that that wasn’t the first time I’d done that.
That I did that a lot. Made him bleed.
“I do not,” I gasped, straddling his body, sitting on his back and eyeing my handiwork.
His face was turned to the side, his cheek resting on his folded arms. “That’s what happens when you fuck a hellcat.”
I pulled at his hair even as I traced and caressed the scratch marks I left him. “Does it hurt?”
Staring into my eyes, he replied, “Yeah.”
“What, really?” Horrified, I took in the scratch marks again. “I’m so sorry. I’m —”
Instead of words, a squeal came out.
Because abruptly, he spun around and changed positions. And I found myself straddling his stomach instead of his back. And it was a loud squeal too, but that was okay. We were in his gray motel room instead of my pink bedroom.
Grabbing my waist, he murmured, “Well, sorry doesn’t cut it now, does it, Bubblegum?”
My hands landed on his bare shoulders. “So then what does, Bandit?”
A light flashed in his reddish-brown eyes, a mischievous light. “I have a few things in mind.”
Oh no.
I knew that look. I knew that tone.
I shook my head. “No.”
He chuckled. “Yes.”
“Not in a million years.”
“Million years, huh. Now we’ve got something to work with.”
“Really? A million years is something to work with?”
“It’s better than never.”
God, he made me laugh.
And that’s why I kept shaking my head. “No.”
His lips twitched. “Come on, Bubblegum, don’t be such a crybaby.”
I swatted his chest. “I’m allowed to be a crybaby about this.”
He pulled me down toward him. “Just the tip.”
I bumped our noses together. “No.”
He bumped them back, his hand creeping under his black t-shirt that I was wearing. “How about a finger? Two fingers.”
My breath hitched when those fingers of his found my bare ass. “Nope.”
“One finger,” he said, tracing the crease of my ass now, making me squirm.
Making me rub my pussy on his ridged stomach. “No.”
Then they stopped, those fingers, right where my puckered ring is. And tracing that with his digits, he went, “How about a thumb?”
At this point, I guess he knew that I was simply teasing him.
That one day I’d give it up.
My ass to him.
Of course I would’ve. I would’ve given him anything.
But playing with him was so much more fun right then.
I bit my lip. “No.”
“I promise it’ll feel good,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll make it feel good, baby. It’s the least you could do anyway, yeah? For making me bleed.”
I think I said that he made me bleed too, when he took my virginity.
But I don’t remember now. All I know is that I ended up both laughing and going horny out of my mind. Weird combination but he does that to me.
Or did.
He did that to me.
It’s in past tense.
Isn’t it?
He and I are in past tense. It’s over now. He’s gone.
He’s been gone over twelve hours.
Or is it thirteen? I can’t remember that either.
All I know is that I feel like I’m bleeding like his back and shoulders. I feel like my heart is bleeding both inside and outside of my body. And I’m coloring the world pink and red with it.
Who knew I’d turn out to be a scratcher during sex?
Who knew it would hurt so much when he left?
I mean, I had some idea. But even I didn’t expect for it to feel this way.
One second it feels like I’m dying and bleeding out, and that my world has ended. And the next it feels like it did after our fight about his brother. I was angry after that fight, and sad. But I knew that it wasn’t the end. I knew he’d come back. I knew he’d call or text or tap on my window as soon as night fell.