Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
So yeah, maybe I want something just for me.
Is that so wrong?
“How are you so convincing?” she asks, giving me a little shove.
I laugh. “I was trained from a young age. They do that for rich kids, you know.”
“Oh, they do?”
“It’s a very elaborate training process; they even give you a silver spoon and shove it in your mouth when you’re done.”
She slaps me on the shoulder. “How difficult that must have been.”
“They made us eat peas.”
“I hate peas.”
“Same.”
“So pizza?” she asks, her mind seems to be constantly on food.
I nip her lips again. “Sure, sorry, I just saw something better, and they never teach self-control at rich kid school.”
“Shocker.”
“It’s downright criminal.”
“You know, you’re not totally hateful.”
“I can tell that came from deep down in your soul. Is this just because I gave you an orgasm or—“
She cups a hand over my mouth like someone’s going to hear us, then wraps her arms around my neck. “This is strange, isn’t it?”
“There is nothing strange about hugging in a kitchen before eating pizza.”
“I mean everything else. Us.”
“A day at a time.”
“Ah, more rich kid training?” She laughs.
I shake my head. “Nah, that’s just life stuff.”
She nods. “A day at a time then.”
“Just one, and then another, and another. Sound good?”
She nods, and I wonder how I got so lucky to get her dropped into our house. One that’s felt so lonely that I never even wanted to admit it. Dinners were for photo ops, and now, I’m eating pizza with a beautiful girl that I can even call a friend.
I wonder what this feeling is in my chest and suddenly realize it’s happiness.
Chapter Six
Mary-Belle
His tongue could change the world—literally, all I can think of when it’s inside me. In the back of my head, I realize that this probably isn’t the smartest thing, but… I’ve been so lonely, and he’s suddenly everything I see.
Is it insane that we’re doing this right now? Again?
Yes.
Do I care?
No.
Because I’ve lived my life in the dark, afraid, constantly putting my shields up, constantly waiting to crack or fall.
Right now, I want to live. I want to make a choice for myself, not some social worker telling me where I’m going to sleep at night or some creepy stranger telling me how pretty I am.
I feel alive in his arms.
My head lolls back as he spreads my thighs wider and starts to undo his pants, but he’s going too slow, so I tug at the belt and buttons, shove them down with my feet, and then lay back on the expensive countertop waiting for more.
The incredible pizza is long forgotten.
His first thrust hits me so deep I cry out, and then he’s pumping into me like a madman, and I’m screaming his name because I don’t want him to stop.
His hips roll, and mine follow, matching him hit for hit as we both start to sweat across the granite.
I remember staring at it and thinking about how expensive it was, and now I want him and me all over it.
I want him in the stupid pool house.
The game room.
Every single bathroom.
I want him everywhere.
And with the way he’s gripping my legs and kissing my mouth—I know he feels this inexplicable thing too.
He pulls out of me just when I’m ready to release.
“What the hell?” I whimper.
“C’mon.” He pulls me to a sitting position, then picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. “You deserve a bed.”
“My ass is literally hanging out.”
He slaps it. “Yes, princess, it is.”
“Stop that.”
He just slaps it again until I start hitting his with my fists. It’s hard as steel, and so is he as his cock strains toward my stomach and thighs.
We finally make it to his room, and he throws me across his bed and then hovers over me. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful that I live in a perfect world until now.”
“No more bird watching,” I whisper, cupping his face.
“No.” His mouth meets mine, and then he’s inside me again, filling me, moving with me, clenching my hands in his, and whispering my name across my lips. “Now, I’ll just watch you.”
“I’m not free like the birds.”
“You make me free,” he says, tongue tangling with mine before he sends me soaring, just like his birds.
And I realize he’s totally right.
We’re two days in.
Things always change.
People die.
People live.
But right now—I choose to be free with my asshole bully turned lover and friend.
Or so I thought…
Chapter Seven
Mary-Belle
Good story, right?
I mean, that’s what you’re obviously thinking.
We drove off into the sunset, after you know, having amazing sex, living like perfect rich people, living our lives, and having it easy.
But you have no idea. You think that’s where our story starts?
That’s where our love ended.
Where the pain began.
This is our story.
This is The Perfects.
Strap in because we’re just getting started…