Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“Is something funny?” I say, feeling the anger inside me threatening to overwhelm the anxiety. I can’t even begin to describe how hurt I’m feeling as I try my best to fight off images of Malcom and her going at it on the couch. I bet his fingers smell like her pussy right now. I don’t even want to go near him. “Something funny about leading me on while you’ve got yourself another woman right here? How many other women do you have, Malcom?”
The girl is still snickering as Malcom raises his hands and approaches me slowly. I back away.
“Erika, take a breath.”
“Answer me!” I’m trying not to scream. Don’t be hysterical. Of course I’ve already failed in that department.
“Erika, this is Nikki,” he says gently. “She is my sister.”
Embarrassment washes over me like the wave of a tsunami. I glance over at Nikki, who is still laughing, but who is clearly doing her best to get herself back under control.
“Your sister…” I repeat slowly.
“Yes.” Malcom nods. “She is having issues with her husband, who I don’t like, for the record, and decided to come cry on big-brother’s shoulder tonight after their planned date-night didn’t go quite as she expected it to.”
“Yes, you don’t like him,” Nikki chimes in, an edge to her voice. “You’ve reminded me many times.”
“And taken you into my house many more–”
“Okay, okay,” Nikki groans, waving her hand. “What do you want me to say? Thank you? I’ve said it before.”
My heart is sinking. I’m gasping for breath. The size of the mistake I’ve made tonight—could it be any bigger? I can feel my pulse racing in my hands, in my neck, in my toes. I’ve got to get out of here.
“I’m gonna go,” I say as I turn for the door. But as I reach out for the doorknob, I feel Malcom’s hand on my wrist.
“Whoa, wait a second there.” He spins me toward him like we’re dancing and catches me in his arms. But I can’t even look at him. I turn my head and stare at the wall, where a painting hangs there of a coastline as the sun sets. “You’re not leaving right now.”
“I’m not?” My voice is barely a whisper. He’s telling me what to do, and for some reason, I’m nearly happy to let him. Yes, boss me around. I need you to.
“No. Not right now you’re not,” he says. “Nikki, go sleep in the guest house. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Okay, boss.” I’m sure she has more to say, but she’s being nice to me for whatever reason. God, think about how terrible I must look right now for her to do that. I keep my eyes on the painting but hear her footsteps as she makes her way out the back. Once the door closes, Malcom takes me by the chin and forces me to look up at him.
“I would never do that to you,” he says firmly, his eyes filled with sincerity. “I’m not like your ex.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. We’re not dating, Malcom,” I reply, somewhat spitefully. “You made that quite clear when you didn’t call me.”
For the first time since I met him, I see Malcom falter. He pauses as though he’s going to say something, then stops and visibly chooses something else.
“I had my reasons.”
“Oh?” I ask. “And what were those?”
To my surprise, I feel his hand slip up my shirt and cup my breast. I should grab it and pull it out of there—No, you don’t get to do that right now—but I don’t. I let him, and my whole body comes alive.
“I don’t know if the girl that just tore up my lawn and came bursting into my house at one in the morning gets to demand anything from me right now,” Malcom replies with a grin, shifting his grip to my other breast and squeezing the nipple with just the right amount of pressure.
“Oh, is that right?” I ask. “But the guy who doesn’t call me for a month has access to my body?”
“You gave me your virginity,” he replies, sliding his palm down my stomach until he reaches the hem of my pants. He pops the button and slips two fingers inside. “I have access to your body whenever I want—forever.”
This is crazy. I don’t think I should be letting this happen right now, but I also don’t have the ability to stop him. No, that’s not right actually—I don’t want to stop him. The way he’s taking me like he owns me is turning me on in a very primal way. I should be furious and push him to explain himself about the last thirty days, but as his two fingers find my clit, I can’t do anything but slump forward and let my face fall against his strong, manly chest.