Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
It felt so fucking good.
I rode his hand, and he groaned, moving me until his fingers were so deep that I threw my head back, my hips blindly answering that need to explode. And then I did, and I was a mess. I came apart, literally. I started crying on his lap.
“Hey. Hey.” He ran his free hand over my face, sliding my hair from my cheeks. His voice was so soft and tender, crooning to me as if I were a broken baby bird. I couldn’t handle it. A whole other burst of sobs erupted from me, and he cursed and undid his seatbelt.
Yeah. That’d all transpired with his seatbelt in place.
“Come on.” He lifted me in his arms, guiding me to the backseat.
I climbed back there and waited in a corner until he was next to me. He scooped me up, bringing me back to his lap, and he folded himself around me, kissing little kisses under my chin.
“What’s wrong?”
I kept crying, but the part of my brain that was still operating knew he hadn’t gotten off, and I reached for his jeans. I started to unzip them, but he grabbed my hand with a soft chuckle.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch me when you’re sobbing, think again. I’m not that kind of guy.” He nuzzled my neck and pushed some more of my hair back. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on. Who do I need to beat up? I’ll do it. I’ll even call Bren to help. I think she has a woman crush on you. She’s pretty fierce about you not being hurt.”
I stopped crying, his words surprising me. “What?”
“Yeah.” He grinned, his eyes darkening. “Cross warned me, said Bren only cares about five people. And if I hurt you, she’s going to slice me.”
“What?!”
“You didn’t know? She’s scary. Zeke’s got a hard-on for her because she’s so scary. He actually likes when people challenge him.”
Oh God. Now he was talking about his best friend! Anxiety spiked my pulse, and he felt it. He smoothed his hand up under my shirt, laying it over my heart. “What’s this about?”
I shifted on his lap, trying to slide off, but he tightened his hold.
“Tell me,” he nudged.
I opened my mouth. What was I going to say?
Then I just blurted it out. “I have self-esteem issues.”
He frowned, his head resting against the seat. “Everyone does, don’t they?”
I shook my head, focusing on his chest. I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore. I grabbed his shirt, fisting it. “Not like me. Not like… I hide from people, but it’s not because of them. It’s just easier for me to handle life that way.”
I was horrified. I’d never actually thought about why I did things. I just did things. And yet I’d just explained it out loud. With Blaise coming into my life, things weren’t making sense anymore. I couldn’t stay like this if I was going to have him in my life. It wasn’t fair for him, for anyone.
I needed to make myself better.
“I went to therapy.” I looked up, and I almost fell apart, seeing the somberness in his gaze. “When my parents sent us to Hillcrest, I had problems. I don’t really remember everything I did, but they said I was dealing with some attachment issues. Then Nate left, and those issues came back, but I didn’t tell my parents. The only person who knew was Owen.”
“How old were you when that happened?”
I was too young. “Seventh grade.”
There was more, more that I didn’t want to talk about.
I sagged on his lap, resting against his chest. I felt his fingers sliding through my hair, smoothing down my back.
I spoke into his shirt. “I have problems believing people want to be around me. And, something else happened.”
Blaise went rigid.
I didn’t like talking about this, but he had to know. He had to know to understand.
“Aspen?” His voice was so soft.
It was my undoing.
“Aspen, what happened?”
I couldn’t look at him. I kept looking at at his shirt. It was safe there, no judgement there.
“Aspen?”
“It’s nothing like what you’re thinking.” I looked up. I had to. He had to see.
His eyes grew soft, matching his voice. “I don’t think you know what I’m thinking.”
Yeah. True.
“There was a teacher once. She—uh—they told me later that she was unhinged. I don’t remember her like that, but she was my teacher.” This was hurting. Seriously hurting. “She, just, she started asking me questions about my parents, personal questions. She asked about Nate. She asked a lot, and then one day, my parents pulled me from Hillcrest. I went to a school in Europe for a while.”
His eyebrows dipped. “Why Europe?”
“They told me later that she had made threats against me. She was trying to get money from my parents. I got sent away when it started. There was a whole investigation launched, and she was fired, but she was popular with the other students. They blamed me, and when I came back, it didn’t go away for a long time.”