Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“Keith, go,” I say, not turning to make sure he complied but reaching past Ezra to roll up the window.
“We weren’t doing anything wrong,” Ezra says immediately, cupping my face again. “You know that.”
“Yeah, but no one else does.” I shake my head and sigh. “Until this is all sorted and in the open, we can’t be seen together like this. Anyone who knows you will assume you’re cheating on Aiko. I don’t want to tarnish your reputation that way, or for it to get back to Noah somehow.”
He nods, but a heavy frown mars the smooth line of his brow. “Yeah, I know. You’re right, but I’m not giving you up for the little time we have before you go back on the trail.”
“If I’m going on the trail. Ruiz may not even hire me. He has someone else he’s considering.”
“Then he’s a fool.”
“You might be the slightest bit biased, Dr. Stern.”
“If you mean infatuated,” he says, laying a quick kiss on my lips, “enthralled, blinded by your beauty, then yes.”
“Beauty, huh?” I flip down his visor mirror.
My hair is a snarly nest of curls, pressed straight in some spots. I splashed my face, but the color of the lipstick Ezra smeared from my lips is still faintly visible around my mouth.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my words. “My beauty is blinding.”
He takes my face between his hands, his eyes sober. “I could look at this face forever.”
Forever.
At six years old, it was nothing to slip a ring, still cold from the fridge, onto my finger and say the words that would bind me to that boy all my days. The simplicity of it contrasts starkly with the twisting road that lies ahead of us as adults.
“I better go.”
With one finger, he tips my face back around and then kisses me. He tastes like French toast and possibilities, and I’m ravenous. In seconds, my hand is back on his dick and his fingers are under my skirt, begging entrance at the edge of my panties. He slips one finger under, inside.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my mouth. “How are you this wet already?”
Vaginal dryness, my ass.
I shift my hips just enough to create friction, ease the ache. He thumbs my clit and my mouth falls open. My thighs spread. My nipples harden in the bodice of my gown.
“Lord above,” I gasp, pulling his zipper down and slipping my hand inside his pants.
“Shit.” He presses his forehead to mine.
A car rushes by, shattering any illusion of privacy. We sit in the front seat, panting, reaching for some form of composure. His finger is still inside me, and he’ll have to remove it because for the life of me I cannot bring myself to ask him to. It feels too good.
“I should go,” I say for the millionth time, but make no move to do anything that would actually dislodge him from my body.
“Yeah.” He nods and huffs a laugh. “You said Lord above.”
“What? When?”
“When I was…” He pushes his finger in a little deeper, making me moan. He slowly withdraws. “When I was doing that, you said Lord above like your mother used to say.”
“Yeah, I do that sometimes.”
“Can I see you tonight?” he presses. “Will you stay?”
“Ez, maybe I shouldn’t until we—”
“We’ll be discreet. I can come pick you up.”
“That is not discreet.” I pause, biting my lip. “I’ll take an Uber.”
“Okay. I’ll cook dinner.” He moves forward to kiss me again, but I lean back, glancing around the empty street. “Tonight.”
It seems to require a Herculean effort for me to get out of his car. The pull, the temptation to stay there with him for as long as I can, is strong. After so many years apart, when we’re together, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. All my molecules, every atom, is at peace, but stingingly alive. It’s like when your foot falls asleep, and the needles of sensation come with sudden movement. For so long he wasn’t in my life, and suddenly he is. And beneath the layers of pleasure and delight, there is a sick feeling that just as suddenly as I found him, I’ll lose him again.
“Tonight,” I say, smiling through the window and turning to walk up Mama’s long driveway.
He doesn’t pull off until I’m inside, and I immediately wish he was here. Mama and Keith are both in the front room waiting for me.
“Well, well, well,” Keith says from the white couch in Mama’s sitting room. “Look who’s home.”
Mama always had a “front room” when we were growing up, which we would use under threat of severe punishment. Now we’re adult enough to sit on the white furniture, but it seems Keith still wants to play childish games.
“Keith,” Mama says, her tone much milder than the curiosity in her eyes. “Leave your sister alone. If she wants to cavort with a married man in front of the entire neighborhood, what business is it of ours?”