Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Before my sister can hammer me for a reason for my odd behavior, Heidi pipes up, “Jess is on a date.”
“A date!”
I clamp my hand over Ariel’s mouth before giving her a stern talking to by solely using my eyes. My family believes I have something against dating. I don’t. I’m just not eager for another disastrous rendition of my first serious relationship.
I thought it was cute when my high school boyfriend picked out an outfit for me to wear to a barbecue at his parents’ summer lake house.
My stupidity wore off right along with the shiny shell his ugly personality was hiding behind too many long years later.
I make a mental note to get every item on Heidi’s wedding register when she murmurs, “He’s waiting for Jess outside… hence, her eagerness to leave.”
“And he made you borrow Heidi’s car to get home?” Ariel’s gills turn green as she answers her question herself. “Yuck.”
“I offered to drive. He’s new to the area, so he doesn’t know his way around.” That’s a lie, but if it saves me from an Ariel you-only-get-what-you-put-out speech, I’ll run with it. Caleb is new to the area. I just have no clue if he drove to Finglas or walked there. Flirty one-liners and corny pickup lines give little leeway for the divulging of personal information. “And since he’s waiting, I really should go.”
I press a second kiss to Ariel’s cheek before throwing my arms around Heidi’s neck. “I owe you big time.”
She smiles and waggles her brows like it’s perfectly normal for the husband-to-be to pick up his future bride from her bachelorette party before she twists me toward the bathroom and launches me across the room with a hearty shove.
I want to say I leisurely saunter toward the accessible bathroom at the backend of the club, but that would be a lie. My armpits dampen as much as the slickness between my legs when I recall how many times Caleb made me erupt in an embarrassingly short time.
I thought the little teasers we whispered into each other’s ear as we danced the night away were the prelude to a quick and sexy romp. I had no clue it was only a small sample of the brilliance I would face.
Quickies are meant to be quick, hence their title, but since Caleb seems to have an objection to the word, I asked Heidi if I could borrow her car so Caleb and I could take our intimate gathering somewhere more secluded.
She agreed in a nanosecond. Her wish for me to date as dire as the rest of our sorority sisters.
I swear I am not an anti-dater. I just don’t want to… date.
The thought of being tied to one man for the rest of your life makes me want to barf, and in all honesty, I’d still feel this way even if my first boyfriend wasn’t a douche. Some people are designed for happily ever afters with white picket fences and a golden Labrador. Others aren’t.
I’m the latter.
Although I may consider a scary tightrope walk if Caleb’s terms of a quickie go longer than one night. Plenty of men brag they’ll make you incapable of walking the following morning, but I’ve yet had one hinder my ability to sneak out after their less-than-impressive one minute of grunting while I lay and ponder if it’s in yet.
That won’t be an issue with Caleb.
I’m already walking bowlegged, and he only got in an inch if the impressive erection that makes circus tent poles seem insignificant.
I exhale a big breath outside the accessible restroom door before tapping on the glass Caleb had me pinned to only minutes ago.
“Caleb, it’s Jess,” I murmur through the thick glass when my knock goes unanswered.
“Caleb?” I greet again, aware I was gone more than a minute but also confident our connection is so fire-sparking, he’d wait hours for me.
What? If a girl can’t have confidence in herself, the entire world may as well go to hell because the only person capable of bringing us down is ourselves.
After a third knock, I throw Heidi’s keys into my purse, then shove it under my arm before pushing the open-door button. I’m only five foot, and when you take out my booty and tits I was gifted from my grandmother’s Belize heritage, I’d be classed as scrawny, but if Caleb is still primed and ready to go, you can be assured I’ll use everything in my arsenal to make sure only my eyes sample the goods.
I had to fight the urge to gouge out numerous eyes the past two hours on the dance floor. I don’t see me succeeding a second bout if his sweatpants are outlining his impressive package.
“Caleb?” My tone is more concerned this time around, fueled by the panic creeping into my veins from spotting droplets of blood on the tiled floor surrounding the bathroom sink.