Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 77663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I don’t even know anything about him just his looks alone had garnered my attention. So much for choosing my next partner with care. But why am I even thinking along those lines? I’d seen the man once, and this is how I was acting. I’ll probably never see him again.
That thought, though comforting, was a bit disheartening as well. Why that should be, I’m still not quite sure. He was attractive in a very aggressive way if that even makes sense. His good looks didn’t have an ounce of softness about them. Not his face and not that rock-hard body. Gulp!
I thought the words rock-hard, and my mind went immediately to the lump behind his zipper. My breathing got a bit choppy, and I had to press my hand against my chest. Something is most definitely wrong with me. I’ve never even objectified Dan like that.
I never once saw him as a sex object, but that, too, could be based on the fact that we got together so young. But this total stranger who I will never see again, maybe it was safe to think of him in this way.
I sure was thinking of him in that way when I took my shower that night and found my hands drifting into secret places with thoughts of him plaguing my mind. My face was hot with embarrassment when I turned the water off and stepped from the stall.
I was afraid to even dry my skin with the towel because of the lascivious thoughts that kept running through my head and the way they made me feel when I rubbed the soft cloth over my warm flesh. I sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. For the last few months, the only thought on my mind was the bakery. Now, it seems there was something else just waiting to take over.
When I found myself justifying having a hot, tawdry affair, I knew I had to stop and get my mind back under control. I’d already made a complete ass of myself in front of him tonight, so maybe it was best we not meet again.
But try as I might, I couldn’t get those arctic blue eyes out of my head. Piercing and intense those are the words I would use to describe his eyes. And for a minute there, I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of something in them when he looked at me.
The whole exchange couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but looking back, it felt like forever. Since I wasn’t going to get anything done, I turned in early for the night, but that might not have been the best idea.
Each time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Leather jacket, the white Henley, and those jeans that fit him way too perfectly. I knew he had tattoos because they were on his hands and neck, so knowing what I know about the art, he probably has two full sleeves. I wonder what else….Nope.
That night, instead of nightmares about Dan and Deidre, I got swept away by Thunder. What a name! Even that makes me quiver in sweet places that have come alive and refuse to go back to their corner quietly.
I woke feeling tired and out of sorts the next morning. My lower stomach hurt, and there was a dull ache between my thighs that was driving me crazy. I was short and annoyed with myself all the way to the bakery, but as soon as I walked to the door, I couldn’t help but hope and wish I saw him again today.
For the next week, it was like that. I felt cross at the smallest thing during the day, but the nights were the worst. I tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning, only to drag myself out of bed a few hours later and get ready for the long, arduous day.
One good thing came out of my misery, though. With all that pent-up energy, I baked until my back and feet hurt. I was so pissed I came up with a whole new recipe. It started when I was trying to dye fondant to match the color of his eyes.
Blue velvet cupcakes with white polar wolf-shaped frosting and the bluest eyes. His eyes. That’s what he reminds me of: an Arctic wolf. His salt and pepper hair, those piercing blue eyes, and that rough animalistic persona that exudes from him.
Even the way his eyes had flickered for a second when he first looked at me face to face was animal in nature. So why am I getting wet for a wolf? His voice. I was starting to forget the exact timber of it, but I remember the thrill of hearing it. Now, my nights are spent imagining him whispering dirty things to me while he’s inside me.