Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I pretend not to notice how put out she is that we’re not holding hands. She should be, considering I’ve held her hand all week, often initiating the contact. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest and her lower lip juts out, making me want to break my cardinal rule of no kissing on the lips. Fuck, that’s another rule I wanted to break last night. Hearing her cry out because of what I was doing to her body had me on edge. I wanted to swallow each of her moans and mix them with mine, but held back. Kissing is far too intimate for me and yet I find myself closer and closer to her mouth each time we’re together.
Macey leans against the bridge, her forearms rest on the railing while her hands dangle over the side. There’s a slight breeze, but between the rising heat of the desert and the stifling air, all it’s doing is making us hotter. The only consolation is that it’s not humid. I can deal with the high heat, but sweating my balls off is never enjoyable unless it’s a result of sex.
“They say if you throw a coin over the bridge your wishes will come true.” Macey looks out over the water while speaking.
“I think you heard that in a movie.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
It dawns on me that she doesn’t have any money, and if she does she didn’t bring it with her. I promised her a week when I would pay for everything. Digging into my pocket I pull out a quarter, wondering what she’ll wish for. Eternal happiness? Wealth? I don’t know what someone in her position would want more of. If it were me . . . yeah, I don’t even know what I’d wish for.
I stand behind her, placing my arms through the gaps between her arms and body. It’s nothing but pure torture, but I can’t help myself as I inhale her scent. Nothing but warmth, coconut and lust seep through my system. I’d fuck her right now if there weren’t people looming around and taking pictures.
Opening my palm, the quarter rests there for her taking. I expect to feel her fingers push into my skin as she picks it up, but she uses only her nails as if touching me would give her a disease. Her reaction is exactly what I want. I want her pissed off at me. Not only will it make what I have planned for us later even better, but when she leaves, she’ll be counting her lucky stars that she’s finally rid of me.
Macey holds the quarter in her hand, letting it drop into the river below. The faint plop is barely heard among the noise and other people making wishes.
“What’d you wish for?” I ask, leaning into her only to have her turn slightly and give me a sideways glance.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“You know the likelihood of your wish coming true is slim to nothing.”
Macey turns fully in my arms and leans against the railing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?” I counter.
“You’re like night and day and I can’t keep up. One minute you’re this nice man who treats me like I’m worth something and then the next you’re this cynical piece of shit.”
“And what am I now?”
“Definitely the piece of shit,” she says with a huff as she turns back around. If her hair were down, I have no doubt in my mind that she would’ve flipped it in my face, but it’s the eye roll that really makes her statement epic. In fact, she should market that shit because it was done so dramatically and with such flair that I’d pay for an instant replay.
“Piece of shit, huh?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low. Macey sighs again and leans slightly over the railing, pressing her ass into my groin. The reaction is instant and I have a feeling she knows this. “And why is that?”
“Because after last night, I thought . . .”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. I already know what she’s going to say. Macey thought after I fucked her without a condom that things would change between us. They did, but not the way she wants them to.
“Listen,” I say, tugging on her arm to turn her around. She does, but her movements are without attitude. “What happened last night was a mistake.” Her face pales and she looks away.
“You asked me to stay last night when I wanted to leave,” she says, poking me in the chest. “Last night at your stupid fundraiser I saw you with that other woman. She was pawing at you, draping herself all over you, and you expected me to stand next to you while this was going on. You never brushed her away. You laughed at whatever she was saying to you. I felt so used.”