Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I should want that right now. I don’t want to hurt Ignacia, and I don’t want to hurt myself.
Yet I still can’t say no.
“Turn around. I’m going to love-tap you on the—on the—”
“On the ass? Darling, are you afraid to say it? Well, as you’ve already divined, I have an obsession, so I’ll put it out there for you. Ass. There, I’ve saved you. Ass cheek.”
I have never felt more ridiculous. As I get behind her when she’s bent over in such an alluring position, I feel like I am going to embarrass myself and come in my damn pants. I bring my hand back and lightly smack her right cheek.
“Wow,” she sighs. “That was so uninspired. Beau, I expected more from you. You’re such a boss in your regular life. Spank me like you mean it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her.
“You could at least make it sound good.”
The next swat, I make sure I use more of my palm. There’s a loud smack, just the way she wants, but I barely make contact. She gasps. “Oooh. That was better.” She whips around, grinning at me, but she’s such pure sunshine and happiness that I can’t even find it strange. Yeah, she’s definitely wanted to do that for a long time. And she trusted me to do it with her.
One hand suddenly reaches out and brushes the hem of my T-shirt. “Can I take this off?”
“Yes,” I grunt.
“I’ll be careful of the pump.”
What pump? Right. Duh. I’m having such an out-of-body experience right now that I can’t even remember the details of my own limbs and organs.
She takes such care with my T-shirt that it’s as if I’m going to break. I want to tear it in half by the time she’s done; my blood pressure is so elevated. Her eyes shoot straight to my nipples.
“What’s the real deal with these anyway? You said it wasn’t them per se, so what is it?”
I am not saying it out loud.
But I don’t have to. She knows.
“Will I break you if I lick one?”
“Yes.” Damn it. Why? Why did I say that?
“Okay.” She brushes a finger over my bottom lip, surprising the hell out of me. “I don’t want to break you, so I won’t touch them. Is it okay to kiss you and just…see what happens?”
I should shut this down right now. It’s gone way too far. She’s not laughing now or playing around. She’s being sweet and kind and respectful of my boundaries, and she’s still looking at me with so much heat, looking at me like I’m not some broken, damaged, fucked up to the core person. She’s looking at me like this is something we can do together, something we can connect over. I should be running from it because it’s the very thing I’ve been running my ass from all along, but I just can’t run anymore. And no, I’m not tired. I could continue running for the rest of my life. It’s more like I’ve found a safe spot to just take a rest and a breather for a second.
So I kiss her.
I kiss her like she’s made for me, like I belong to her. I don’t know when that happened. I don’t know when my protective instincts started being less about this job and more about her. All my instincts are about her. This isn’t part of my job. If anything, this could ruin my cover. I’ve known nothing but emptiness since my parents died. That emptiness has nothing to do with the money. I never tried to buy something to fill the hole inside me. I knew it wasn’t possible, and I didn’t even try.
Right now, I’m afraid of this kiss. I’m afraid because all those holes inside me—and my insides are about as hole-riddled as a moth-eaten old wool sweater stored in a not-so-moth-proof trunk for the better part of a hundred years—don’t feel so hole-ish. It feels as wrong as kissing her feels right.
I feel as if another string has unraveled from the tight, ugly ball of twine that is my life. No, fuck it. The ball of twine is me. It’s me, and I’m losing strings. If I keep shedding them and shedding them, there’s going to be nothing left of me.
I always thought I just felt so much sadness that there was no end to it. I didn’t want there to be more, even though adding endlessness to never-ending shouldn’t have been a problem. But it was. It is.
When I leave, Ignacia is going to be holding that string. The memory of her will keep on falling and falling and falling inside the pit within me. It doesn’t matter if it’s bottomless. She’s inside me forever now.
“Ignacia…”
She traces my bottom lip with her tongue and kisses me so gently after that it robs me of speech. “What?” We’re both breathless, and I’m panting. I’m out of control, and that’s the one thing I never, ever give up.