Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Shy my arse,” he muttered under his breath, before swiping a shaky hand over his face.
Beth couldn’t believe she had just done that. Oh God. Had she really just put her hand on a man’s penis…in public? Was she turning into some kind of exhibitionist? Because she had enjoyed it very much. The thrill of it, the fear of being caught, the taboo aspect of touching someone so intimately at a table full of people they both knew well—it had excited her. If he had reciprocated in any way, she would’ve gone off like a rocket.
Now that her blood was cooling and her heartbeat and breathing were regulating, the knowledge of what she’d done, and how it had affected her, deeply disturbed her.
What was wrong with her? Knowing how helpless he’d been, how close to losing the ultimate control in front of so many people had been titillating. Beth had felt powerful. In charge.
It had been exhilarating.
“Beth?” The sound of her name startled her, and she lifted her eyes to meet Lucy’s curious gaze.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she apologized, her face going bright red.
“I asked if you were going to join us this time,” Lucy repeated as she reached for a bread roll. She broke off a piece of the crispy bread to swipe through some sauce on her plate.
“J-join you?” What had she missed? She hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation ebbing and flowing all around her, so focused had she been on Gideon.
“Paintballing,” Lucy elaborated around a mouthful of food.
“Oh, I don’t—”
“That’s not Lizzy’s kind of thing,” Gideon jeered. He was in control again and back to his evil arch nemesis self. “She won’t do it if she can’t be the best at it.”
“Who says I won’t be the best at it?” Beth retorted icily and he guffawed nastily.
Oh, but she preferred him much, much better when she had his penis in her grasp and he was helpless to her every whim.
“Babe, trust me, you’re going to hate it.”
Oh, he did not just call her babe?
“Don’t ever call me babe again. And I happen to be an excellent marksman. I’m pretty sure the principle is the same with paintball. It’s essentially a modified rifle.”
“She’s an excellent marksman,” Gideon repeated. “Of course, she’s an excellent marksman. You can do everything, can’t you, professor? Not even going to let the unfortunate mishap with potato salad humble that staggering ego and self-confidence, are you?”
“At least I didn’t cop out and buy my contribution. I wanted to bring something special. And maybe it was a disaster but you don’t have to be such a dick about it. Things haven’t been—” Her voice was starting to wobble. She was allowing herself to get too emotional.
“Guys,” Cat inserted, her voice stern. “I will put you both in a time out.”
“Time out?” Cam chuckled. “I was thinking of turning the hose on them.”
Everyone else laughed, familiar enough with the strained dynamic between Gideon and Beth to not let it make things awkward. Instead, they continued to reminisce about their last paintball adventure.
It really wasn’t Beth’s idea of a good time. It sounded messy, and chaotic, and unpredictable, but—while she listened and forced herself to eat—she made a decision.
“I would love to go paintballing with you guys,” she said, her voice breathless and a little too loud. She would join them and she would have a good time and she would kick Gideon’s butt while she was at it.
Everybody welcomed her proclamation with happy cheers, and the rest of the meal proceeded without further incident. Beth studiously ignored Gideon. While Gideon ignored Beth right back. So what if she could still feel the hard heat of him in the palm of her hand? Or the imprint of his fingers on her thigh? Oh God, and then there was the intimate ache where his hardness had been not even an hour ago. The throb of her nipples where he had licked and sucked and nibbled on them last night.
She gulped down another refreshing, libido-dousing—okay, not really—wash of soda. It was going to take a long time to get back to normal. The fact that she had—however briefly—entertained the notion of continuing with this ridiculous physical thing that had manifested between them, was proof enough that she wasn’t herself. And that terrified her. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. The sooner she got back to her usual routine, the better.
A routine without Spock.
Her nose burned and her throat swelled as she thought about the crabby old African grey parrot. But she beat back the tsunami of sadness that threatened to overwhelm her all over again.
Instead, she focused outward, trying to drum up enthusiasm for the paintball commitment she had just made by asking if they had pictures, which they did. Apparently, they were all on a paintball WhatsApp group chat and Lucy quickly opened the chat and swiped back to the photos everyone had shared. Beth tried not to feel hurt by the fact that she had been excluded. She was in plenty of other group chats with them. There was the book club and knitting circle with Lucy, Cat, and a few other women, none of whom were present tonight. And of course, they had a hiking group—not Beth’s favorite activity—but they did go on some very pretty walks. Most of the people at the table—excluding Cynthia—were on that group. It was the only WhatsApp group Beth and Gideon had in common. Even though they had an unspoken agreement to alternate hikes.