Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
It eases some worries.
Except, I’m in another predicament.
Sharing the bathroom with Donnelly is new. So new that I forgot Moondragon’s fish food is in the bathroom cabinet. On the other side of my bedroom wall, I hear the running water from the shower.
Moondragon swims in her tank, looking starved. Or as starved a goldfish can look. I imagine her little water bubbles are cries for food.
“I’m going to get it, I promise,” I say. “I’m just waiting for Donnelly to get out of the shower.”
But he’s been in there an extra long time. Maybe it’s just felt like that.
I wonder if he’s masturbating.
Okaaaayy, that’s probably not something I should be thinking about. Being brutally honest with myself, picturing Donnelly stroking himself is up there in the steam rankings. It’s ghost pepper kinda hot.
Orion chews a bone on the rug, preoccupied with himself.
“Should I just…knock?” I ask my puppy.
He perks up at the question.
“I’m taking that as a yes.” I take a readying breath before walking to the bathroom door inside my room. I lift my fist and tap a little jingle onto the wood.
“Come in!”
Does he know it’s me?
Cracking the door, steam billows at my face, but I don’t stick my head inside. “Uh, Donnelly? Sorry, I just left something in here.”
“You can come in,” he assures.
My heartbeat quickens as I slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Glass walls encase the shower, and I try to be polite and avoid glancing that way, even if I’m sure the vapor obscures him.
Naked Donnelly.
Nude Donnelly.
Unclothed Donnelly.
Donnelly’s dick.
Why is my brain trying to fill a thesaurus right now? Shut up, Brain.
My cheeks heat as I head to the sink. I glance up, and I realize the bathroom mirror is right across from the shower. So I’m staring at the reflection of the fogged shower glass that I was trying to politely avoid. I feel like I’m suddenly the ghost pepper, heating from head to toe.
“Sorry,” I apologize again. “Really, I’ll just be one second.”
“Take your time, Planet Partner!” Donnelly shouts over the sound of water hitting tile. He hums a song that I faintly remember.
I open the cabinet and…there’s no fish food. I swear this is the last place I put it. Unless I ran out? I close the cabinet and drop to my knees, opening the bottom cupboard underneath the sink. I take out a basket of hair products, body glitter, and lotions.
The shower cuts off.
Donnelly is still humming.
“Shit, sorry,” I tell him, my heart racing. “I can’t find what I’m looking for.” I cringe. “And that sounds like such an excuse just to be in the bathroom with you. I promise I wouldn’t do that.”
I hear the shower door opening, but I do not turn around. I don’t move from my spot on the floor, staring at the junk underneath the sink.
“You don’t need an excuse to be in the bathroom with me.” His voice is clearer and louder now that the shower is off. “It was your bathroom first, Luna.”
I turn a little to catch his blue eyes, but my gaze isn’t anywhere eyelevel. A towel is slung low on his hips, and I can see more of his scorpion tattoo than I ever have before, the one right above his cock.
It’s hard not to stare.
He is wearing a towel. There’s that.
“Uh…” It takes a concerted effort to pull my eyes up to his blues. But I do.
He’s looking at me with the same intoxicated, heady gaze. Both of us unable to really hide our expressions. The steam of the room makes my skin feel clammy, and my body heat ratchets up.
“I’ve actually wanted to ask you something,” I manage to say, albeit quietly. “But I think it’s…like maybe inappropriate?”
He smiles. “Favorite kinda questions.” He nods me on.
I stare at his towel again. Still on my knees. “Uh…do you have a dick piercing?” I ask, blushing. “Your nipples are pierced so I just wondered if your dick is too.”
He leans a hip against the wall, hand still holding the knotted fabric of his towel. My gaze meets his, and I’m swathed in arousal. My heartbeat slowly descends between my thighs. My imagination paints carnal images of him and me, and I do everything in me to avoid asking if I can blow him.
The silence stirs more tension than I can handle. Very softly, I ask, “Was it a bad question?”
“Nah,” he shakes his head like no way. “Just figuring out how I want to answer.” He shrugs. “Normally, I’d just drop my towel and show you.”
Please, do it.
I rest my hands on my thighs, my heels tucked under my butt. “Why don’t you?” I wonder, not breaking eye contact with him.
“Because I’d do more to you than show you my dick,” Donnelly says deeply, “and we both know that’s not a good idea.”