Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Did you tell him the reason?” Dad asked tightly.
“Uh… yeah. Why?”
“Just… just wondering. As long as you’re okay…”
Dad doesn’t know that I know they were best friends. As far as he’s concerned, Blake is a complete stranger to me.
Dad’s question has me wondering about Mom. So does the way Blake looked at me when I said hit-and-run. It was quick, a passing flinch, but there was something, the tightness in the corner of his mouth. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
The house is quiet and dark, the surrounding countryside devoid of all sound, the feeling of isolation even more intense than it already was. Whatever the case, I can’t sleep. Climbing out of bed, I walk to the door, push it open, and wince as it whines on the hinges.
I walk down the hallway using the flashlight on my phone. Their cellphone jammer can’t break that, though I haven’t got a charger. I left that at the apartment along with all my stuff. I’ll have to ask Blake to pick up some things for me. I’m becoming way too comfortable here, way too fast.
I poke my head into the rooms. There are several neat guestrooms, a game room with a pool table, and a bowling alley. There’s a theater and a shrine of sorts at the end of the hallway. Electric candles sit beneath a display cabinet, the light bouncing off the photo frames.
I walk across the room, studying the photos. The one in the middle has three people: a little girl and two boys on either side with their arms thrown over their shoulders.
I look at their faces. The boy on the right is Blake, I realize. He’s got the same eyes and the same smirk, though there’s a lightness to him I can’t imagine him having now. No, that’s not true. When he laughs and softly strokes the hair from my face, I can see it and feel it then.
I study the other two, wondering who they are, my mind ticking, forming connections. The door whines behind me. I turn to find Blake wearing shorts and a T-shirt filling the doorway. When I spin, my flashlight shines over him, giving his eyes a demonic look. Demonic and somehow hot, even more intense than they’ve been yet.
“What are you doing in here?”
“The door wasn’t locked.”
He walks slowly toward me, his shoulders broad, veins standing up on his tight-muscled skin. “That isn’t what I asked you.”
He stops inches from me, close enough to feel the heat in his body.
“What is this place?” I murmur. “Who are those people?”
He smirks. “No, Bonnie, that’s the wrong question. The right question is, when will we finish what we started yesterday? And the answer is now.”
I squeal as he lifts me off my feet, cradling me to his chest. The hallways are whirring past as he carries me to the bedroom, the art and the weaponry flying by. He drops me on the bed, and another squeal escapes me when his hands immediately dart to my pants.
“I shouldn’t reward you for snooping,” he growls, “but I can’t stop thinking about how close you were. You need to cream for me.”
I almost tell him no. He can’t keep changing the subject.
Clearly, that shrine means something. The photos mean something. Those people mean something.
He pulls my pants off and slides his hand up to my sex. He growls as he grips my thighs, kneeling at the end of the bed and pulling me toward him. It all happens so fast.
He’s got his face pressed against my core, his mouth open so I can feel his upper lip against my clit, his lower against my hole, his tongue darting out and stroking against my folds. I whimper as a cord of hot pleasure strikes through me. He grabs my legs like he’s addicted to them, to me, to my shape, to the curviness kids once bullied me for.
“You taste perfect,” he growls. “Has anybody ever done this to you before?”
“N-no,” I moan.
“Good.” He sinks his hands deeper into my thighs. “You’re going to cream for me like a good girl. You’re going to soak my mouth with your come.”
You can’t avoid my questions forever, I almost scream, but I can’t summon the words. I can’t summon anything other than lust-filled moans as he licks my pussy possessively, growling like he’s getting pleasure from the act of giving it. He pulls me closer to him, driving his mouth against my sex. The feeling is entirely new as his tongue swirls around my clit.
“Getting soaked for my cock.”
“N-no,” I manage to say, pushing past the moans. “I’m n-n-not ready.”
“You feel ready.”
“Blake.”
He pauses, looking up at me, his lips glimmering with the moon and starlight filtering through the window.
“Relax,” he growls. “Just be a good girl and come for me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”