Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
What would I say to somebody I was counseling?
Maybe something like…
“What would you choose to do if your anxiety wasn’t a factor?”
I take a deep breath as I type the message.
Are you sure you don’t mind driving all the way over?
Is that a yes? It’s like I can hear him snarling the words in his commanding voice. Do you want me to come?
I could still back out, telling him he better hold off, better wait…
But what are we waiting for, exactly?
He’s already agreed he’s not going to try and go all the way tonight. My whole body and mind are buzzing at the thought of seeing him… except for the mean voice telling me I’ll somehow embarrass myself, somehow ruin it.
Can I listen to that voice forever?
Yes, I do. Here’s my address….
I attach it to the text, then close my eyes tightly, forcing myself to count to ten.
I get to four, and then my phone vibrates.
I’ll be right there.
I spring up, quickly moving around my bedroom, doing my best to tidy everything away. Suddenly, I’m far more aware of the thin carpet, the old wallpaper, and how rundown everything is.
I can’t imagine Eli judging me for where I live, but it doesn’t stop the shame from niggling.
Finally, I take a quick shower and change into clean clothes, standing in front of the mirror and staring at myself.
I see a curvy woman with red cheeks and wide eyes.
I try to imagine Eli standing behind me, ignoring that mean voice that tells me it doesn’t fit. A man as tall, handsome, and successful as him would never want me.
My phone goes off.
I’m downstairs. Which apartment are you?
Hang on, I reply. I’ll come down and let you in. The automatic door thing is broken.
My legs are trembling as I walk toward the door.
There’s still time to turn back. What if he laughs at my dress? What if he goes back on his word and tries to take it all the way?
What if, what if, what if….
I walk quicker, deciding I won’t live in what if land tonight.
I’ll focus on the good instead like I get to spend time with my man, get to kiss him, be held by him, even if he doesn’t know he’s my man.
We haven’t outright said it, though we’ve come close, hints that have my heart expanding with the promise of love.
CHAPTER 16
Elias
My hand is on the small of her back, bare inches from her ass, as we walk up the stairs.
I didn’t expect her to be wearing this form-hugging dress, highlighting her curvy hips, her naked thighs so thick and inviting I have to focus not to slip my hand lower, to squeeze onto her perfect body.
She looks up at me when we reach her door, smiling shakily.
“It’s not the Ritz,” she says.
I lean down, kissing her cheek, tasting her, and inhaling her scent greedily. It’s shampoo and just her, nothing else, a unique smell that has my balls swelling with urgent imperative to claim her.
“I’m not going to judge your apartment, Della,” I say.
I leave out the other part.
That one day, I’m going to buy us a big house, large enough to fill with laughter and children.
I move away before the kiss becomes something else.
I’m on edge, struggling to hold myself back from doing more with her, struggling not to kiss her fully on the lips.
Once we’re inside and I know nobody else is going to see, I can’t withhold my desire anymore.
She makes that sexy whimpering noise as I push her up against the wall, my hands slipping to her hips, pressing possessively as our mouths follow their instinct. She opens her mouth, her tongue finding mine, and we stay like that, clashing, indulging.
My cock gets solid as I push against her, feeling my manhood push right up against her belly, the tip aching with precome.
With an effort, I step away, my hands trembling.
“I told you I’d be good,” I say with a smirk.
Her expression shivers, her flushed cheeks trembling. It’s like her desire to take my seed, to take every last drop I’ll give her, is bursting up through her body.
She reaches over and places her hand on my chest.
“I thought I’d be so nervous being with you,” she murmurs.
“Why?”
I touch her hand, fighting the need to guide her down toward my cock. She’ll be the first woman to ever touch me there, and that’s the way it should be.
I don’t give a damn about society, about playboy culture, about any of that.
I’m glad I waited for my woman.
Nobody could ever compete.
“It’s so different from texting,” she murmurs.
“We’re the same people, Della. Texting or not.”
“No,” she says. “Texting is easier. There’s less….”
“Less?” I move closer, wrapping my arms around her again, this time making an effort not to let my hands glide down to her hips or her ass, even as my seed swells and orders me to claim her soaked virgin slit. “Less what?”