Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 128097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
So careful that me and him, we’re the best kept secret at The Pleiades.
I don’t see him at all during the day, except for when he works out by the pool and eats his breakfast in the kitchen.
The guy who I thought would have me fired when he first arrived a little over a month ago is the one who’s guarding my job like it’s his goddamn job to protect me from everything.
As the days pass, I become more and more restless. I feel like he could disappear any day, any second. And I won’t even know it until he’s gone like one of those falling stars that I so like to wish upon.
Maybe Zach feels the same way. I can’t say for sure.
But every time he knocks at the back door of my cottage and I see the black night and silent woods at his back, he seems so hungry. So passionate, a mix of heaving breaths and hulking form.
Growling like a bear, he falls on my lips, pushes me into my bedroom and climbs on the bed with me. He tears at my clothes without any words. His fingers leave marks everywhere. His teeth leave bruises on my tits, my thighs, so close to my pussy that it feels like he’s really eating me up.
I’m the same way.
My desperation, my violent need matches his. I break his skin with my nails. I scratch his back, his ass, his thighs.
He rides me with such need that I’m always desperate to come but still reluctant because I think, orgasm will put an end to this.
And I don’t ever want it to end.
I want to get fucked by him forever and ever.
But it does get over, and by the end of it, we both are a sweaty, slippery mess.
And then comes our second thing. I read to him.
It’s not a secret that I’ve never been into reading. But I’m starting to realize that I like it. Maybe I ignored it before because I hated going to school. I hated the students, the teachers, and not reading was my way of rebelling.
But I read now because Zach asks me to.
I think he likes books, as well. But for some reason, he doesn’t want to read them himself. And it’s not because dyslexia makes it exhausting for him to read.
It’s something else.
Something that makes him withdraw when I compliment him or ask him about it. The only time he’ll ever read is when Art asks him to. And even then, I can see reluctance in every line of his body.
Right now, we’re exhausted. All three of us.
Since it’s Saturday, I took a day off. We rode the bus to get here and spent the entire afternoon at the carnival.
I used to go to these when I was a kid but I haven’t been in a long time. We tried everything. The rides, the games. The cotton candy.
I asked for a blue one. But Zach and Art both refused.
“It feels like eating your hair, Blue,” Art explained.
“Yeah, Blue,” Zach echoed.
“It’s gross,” Art continued.
“Totally gross,” Zach said.
“Whatever, dudes. I don’t care. I’m eating it.”
And to show them, I took a huge bite of the fuzzy candy and moaned. Art went ew but Zach watched me with a hunger that he usually keeps reserved for the nights.
Anyway, the sun’s setting and the sky is purple, and I think it’s time to head out.
Art’s dragging his feet and so Zach heaves him up and sits him on his shoulders. My steps go unsteady for a second at seeing the cutest little kid on the shoulders of the most beautiful guy I’ve ever met.
My two boys.
We’re on our way to the exit when Art spots a giant alligator he has to have or he’ll just faint right here. It’s to be won in a game and Zach approaches the counter.
Sighing, I begin to follow but my eyes get caught up at a different stand. The chalkboard by its side says, Written in the Stars. And there’s a sketch of a mountain, a lake and a moon with twinkling stars.
The tent’s navy blue with off-white stars all over, and wind chimes hang off the cloth ceiling.
It’s a fortune teller.
I’ve never been a big believer but something makes me approach it. A lady sits at the counter and upon noticing me, she smiles.
She looks… normal, a little bit older than me.
I mean, no chains or beads or a million rings to show off that she can see the future. She is wearing a poncho though, and a purple band in her red hair.
“Hi there,” she greets me.
“Hey,” I say, feeling a little stupid. “I don’t…”
“You don’t believe?”
I hug the giant teddy bear Zach won for Art by throwing a ring around a bottle. “Do you?”
She sits back in her chair, still beaming. “I’m here, aren’t I?”