Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
But then she freezes as if she had the ability for a split second to forget where she was. She sits up, pulling the blanket up higher on her chin, and stares at me. She looks wiped out and frightened, realizing that she made a mistake. The lines on her cheek should make me want to run my thumb along it to smooth the creases away but I’m too far gone. I’m too caught up in the needs of my own body.
I don’t want to touch her softly like I do sometimes at night when she’s fast asleep. I don’t want to trail my finger down her arm or brush hair out of her face. I want to consume her. I want to crash my mouth against hers, slide my hand between her skin and the blanket and see just how hot she is. I want to touch those aches in her own body. Need building inside of me is the only thing that makes thoughts of physical reasoning for her ability to control me dissipate.
When I lie in bed listening to her sleep, I’m almost able to convince myself that it has to be a brain tumor. That has to be the only explanation I have for this connection I feel to her. I’m a man who actively avoids any connections with real people. It’s why I’ve been avoiding Hollis the last five times he’s called this week. I don’t want to talk with him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to meet him and Nash for another boring-ass day on the beach. Neither of them knows how long I have to travel to get there to make it look like I live even remotely close to South Padre. Neither of them has any idea that I’m hundreds of miles away from the beach.
I don’t tell her what I want as I walk toward the bathroom. She’s gotten really good at anticipating my needs. She no longer has a collar or chain around her neck and I have fought the urge to put it back there just so I can hear that soft thank you she told me two days ago when I removed it.
She pads slowly into the bathroom, as I put myself up against the bathroom counter. Her hair is a tangled mess, her eyes sleepy. Her yawn makes it even more evident that she was nowhere near ready to be woken up. There’s irritation flowing through her body with every single step she takes, but I can’t worry about that right now.
She’ll have plenty of time to sleep once I’m rid of the throbbing in my body. I can’t think of her while my cock is hard and my head can focus on nothing else than the endorphin rush I’m going to get watching her shower. She turns the shower on like she normally does, but instead of reaching for that sweet spot between her thighs or the bodywash, she glares at me.
This isn’t the first time she’s done this. I’ve caught her once or twice with that snarky look on her face—the one that says that she just wants to spew hateful things in my direction. This time she doesn’t back down. She doesn’t stop looking in my direction with anger in her eyes.
“You know what to do,” I tell her, bargaining with myself that if I don’t command her into action, it doesn’t count. Because God knows if I have to command it, then I have to follow through with this unspoken rule between us. If I have to tell her to do it, then I can’t do it to myself.
“Why do you want me to shower all the time?” she asks, sounding like a petulant child who was being told to eat their vegetables, instead of a naked woman standing underneath a steaming stream of water with perky breasts and a shadow of Heaven between her thighs.
“I like what happens in the shower,” I say.
“I could play with myself in the damn bed,” she grumbles but she doesn’t give in. She doesn’t reach for herself. She just stands there glaring at me.
Knowing she’s in full control of this entire fucking situation, it kills me. I keep my mouth shut. The only reason I woke her up was so I could come in if she’s going to play this game. “Raya.”
I win. Her eyes drop to my erection and I don’t have to look down to know that the tip is glistening with precum. I can feel the temperature difference as the cool air in the room washes over it. She doesn’t take heed of my warning. Instead, she cocks her hips to the side and crosses her arms over her chest. I clench my fists open and closed, biting the instinct in me that tells me to make her do it. Not only is she hiding her perfect tits, but she’s also being completely defiant.