Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I drop my forehead to hers, breathing hard, and she twists in my arms and wraps herself around me like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. My heart is beating so fast that I can’t think straight, so I go with instinct. I embrace her hard, kissing the top of her head, pressing her face into my inked chest. She comes face to face with the grim face of Perseus with the head of medusa in his hand but doesn’t flinch.
“That was…”
“Too much.” I stare at the wall behind her. Why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why do I always have to push the boundaries?
“Perfect.”
When I place both my palms on the side of her face, she looks up at me and smiles. My expression feels rigid, the shame forming a mask. She touches my brow, so gently it’s like she’s reached into my chest and stroked my heart.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, scanning her body, that is still mostly concealed by the dress she wore for lunch. I was so hasty I didn’t even undress her.
“No.”
The ceiling is perfectly white and smooth, so different from the one I usually stare up at when I can’t sleep. I blow out a relieved breath, but then feel like an idiot for believing Allie. She’s such a nice woman. She’d say anything to make someone feel better.
I try to pull away, but she doesn't let me go. “Carson. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Everything’s amazing, in fact.”
“Amazing?” The word is such a stark contrast to what I had in my mind to describe what happened between us. I mean, it felt amazing to me, but that shouldn’t have been the first thing on my mind.
Selfish.
That was another word my dad used to use about me.
Allie strokes her hand across my scalp and rests her palm against the back of my neck. The warmth eases the tension there and I want to nuzzle into her affection. I want to bury my face in her belly and fall asleep while she runs her fingers over my face and neck. Shit, I want to relax with this girl and discover her secrets. I already know some. I googled her and read the article she wrote in college, which almost got her kicked out. She was fearless and eloquent. A bright light. I showed Clay, and he showed the rest. Now they all know what Allie’s really like behind all the restrained professionalism. I want to ask her why she’s doing what she’s doing instead of being out there, changing the world like she should be, but this isn’t the time or the place.
First, I need to take care of her.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say, glancing at the open doorway.
“Oh. Sure.” Allie disentangles herself from me and shifts so her back is resting against the headboard. I cover my cock with my hand and slide off the mattress, padding across the cool floor. Her eyes rest heavy against my back, and I don’t close the door as I pinch the condom off and toss it in the trash. Doing so would put up a barrier between us, and I’m not ready for that. I push my dick back into my shorts and find a washcloth in a basket on the counter, adjusting the faucet until the temperature is perfect.
Back in the room, Allie is sitting with her knees bent and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes meet mine and then her attention drifts to what I have in my hand.
I climb on the end of the bed and touch her hand. “Open your legs. Let me clean you.”
“You don’t have to,” she says, but I fix her with a look that’s determined enough to make her comply.
The way she drags the fabric of her dress up and over her legs is like the best kind of tease. Her panties are still on, but when she slowly parts her legs, they’re transparent and clingy from her arousal. “Lift up,” I say, hooking my hands into the sides so I can remove them and get a good look at any potential damage I’ve left behind. I swear, if she’s sore, I’m never going to forgive myself.
Allie blushes hard but wriggles out of the scrap of fabric. I shift closer, taking the wet cloth, scanning her pretty pink pussy for signs of ravage. Her clit is still swollen, and her entrance is slick, but thank goodness, she seems fine.
My eyelids drop from relief and also because looking between her legs has me hard again.
“Carson.” Her hand rests on my arm. “What is it? Why are you so worried?”
“I was selfish,” I tell her as I press the warm cloth to her skin. She exhales as I gently clean her, and wriggles against the cloth. I guess the roughness of the fabric, the pressure and the warmth are arousing.