Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Micah! What in the hell are you doing? There are people in line behind us, babe. Come on, snap out of it,” Landon whispered in my ear.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Okay.” I moved forward with him. He shoveled a little bit of everything on his plate until it was overflowing, then handed that one to me and filled a second plate with hot pancakes, melted butter, and syrup…so damn much syrup that part of it ran over the edge of the plate. I wanted to drop on my knees and try to catch the gooey sweetness on my tongue before it hit the floor. Thankfully, he took the plate he’d handed me back or I would have probably dropped it onto the floor since I was clearly in a buttery syrup trance.
I felt myself being led away, but like a puppy, I went willingly—following Landon’s plates of food with the same lust that I’d experienced with the man himself. When we returned to the table, the spot in front of my chair was still empty except for my glass of water. My fantasy bubble burst right before my eyes…but the sweet smells lingered. With a depressed huff, I plopped down onto my chair, pulled out my phone, and tried to find something that might miraculously make the images of the food disappear. I pulled up one of my social media pages and tried to lose myself in the fashion world…the world that I ruled.
Well…wasn’t that fucking fancy?
Apparently, some motherfucking dick-shit had taken a video of me sucking the dildo at last night’s party and there it was, just as big as goddamn life, all over my social media. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Opened them. Yep, it was still there. My father would kill me. My mom would laugh about it, but my dad would seriously blow a gasket. He was all about the image. Since I was already pissed at Landon, I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to somehow figure out a way to blame him for this latest clusterfuck…of my own creating. Having said that, just because I created it didn’t mean that I couldn’t blame Landon for it.
“Problems with the modeling world via cell phone?” Landon asked as he shoveled a heaping forkful of pancakes into his pie-hole.
“Fuck off, Landon…and stop talking with your mouth full. It’s disgusting.” Yep, that was the best I had for a comeback while I sat in my chair, watching a video of me giving head to a dildo, and lusting after Landon and Landon’s food. I was the poster child for pathetic.
Oh, fuck. There was syrup sliding down his chin. I’d give a million dollars to suck it off. I wasn’t kidding—I had a million to spare just to suck that gooey goodness from him.
My cell started ringing and my dad’s face popped up. I one-hundred percent wasn’t in the mood to listen to him bitch and hiss over the video. What was done was done—there was no taking it back. Him screaming at me wasn’t going to change one damn thing. I’d never done this before in my life, but I turned the phone off and tucked it back into my pocket. My day was bad enough without adding my father into the mix.
Landon arched a brow. His brows were perfect, and I’d gamble half my fortune on the fact that a drop of wax or tweezers had probably never touched them. Fucker. I had to have my entire goddamn body waxed once every three weeks just because the industry was currently obsessed with hairless men. It wasn’t as if I was very hairy anyway, but waxing was still required. Motherfuckers.
“Why did you ignore Daddy Beautybucks?” Landon asked.
I shrugged. “Not interested in listening to it this morning, I guess. I’m sure he’s pissed about the video. To him, my image is more important than my safety or soul.” Thankfully, the flirty waitress brought my breakfast plate over, interrupting whatever smartass comment Landon was going to toss my way. I thanked her and then stared at my plate in disgust. My plate, compared to Landon’s breakfast, looked bland.
Bland. My life was bland.
Well, shit. I hated my fucking bland life. Wasn’t now just a fine fucking time to realize that bit of fucking information? The entire world thought my life was pure glamour…maybe it was for some. Not me. It wasn’t what I wanted.
“You okay?” Landon asked quietly. “I don’t like the look on your face.” When I didn’t respond, just kept staring at my protein plate of grossness, he added, “I thought your video was really good—not bad at all for an amateur cock sucker. Your technique and enthusiasm need to be commended. As a matter of fact, I noticed that a lot of your followers were complimenting you.”