Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
All this is to say I don’t know how much of this “sweet side” is Isaac actually wanting Blake or if it’s due to internal wiring that tells him he needs to chase her.
A wave of noise from the door grabs my attention. We’re seated in the main room tonight, so we have a clear shot of everyone walking into the bar. A group of guys just entered, several of them wearing black hockey jackets. A flash of blond hair catches my eye.
Beckett.
The last time I saw him, he was fucking me hard enough to make me see stars, his fingers digging into my hips and thighs so tight he left tiny fingerprint bruises. I should have been alarmed when I saw the bruising in the mirror the next day, but I wasn’t. It only made me wet, remembering the sensation of him moving inside me while Will encouraged me to be a good girl and come for Beckett.
My thighs squeeze together at the memory, and I tear my gaze off the door. No. I’m not allowed to remember the pleasure. I need to focus on the shame. That horrible, smothering feeling I got afterward when I was leaving their house, wondering what people would think if they knew I just had sex with everyone inside it like the neighborhood sex fairy.
“We should head out,” Faith says, polishing off the rest of her sangria. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”
I nod. “I just need to use the ladies’ first.”
“Go. I’ll settle up. It’s my turn to treat.”
I walk toward the back corridor to the restrooms. I pee quickly, then wash my hands and fix my hair in front of the mirror. Make sure my side part is perfect. Not that I care what Beckett thinks of my side part. But you know…
Yes, we want to look good for the guy you banged while his best friend watched, don’t we?
My inner critic is such a bitch.
I exit the bathroom to find Beckett waiting for me.
Usually, the restrooms are packed until closing, but it’s a Wednesday and still early in the night, so the corridor is completely empty. We’re alone. But I still glance toward the end of the hall to make sure no one’s coming.
“Afraid to be seen with me, sugar puff?” His Aussie accent makes my heart jump.
“No, that’s not it,” I lie.
“Too sleazy for you, huh?”
My stomach clenches with guilt. “I told Will I don’t think he’s sleazy. Either of you.”
“You also told him that someone who has ongoing threesomes is sleazy. So what you’re saying doesn’t add up, now does it?”
My insides twist harder. Damn it. I feel like an asshole. I am an asshole. Because he’s right—the reasons I’m providing for not wanting to see them again contradict the assurances I’m giving him now.
But the confusing thing is, I’m not judging them. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what they’re doing.
So why is it wrong when you do it? challenges a voice in my head.
Confusion floods my brain. I…don’t fucking know. All I know is that I felt ashamed of it. But they shouldn’t feel ashamed. Because…
A groan jams inside my windpipe. Why can’t I make sense of any of this?
As if sensing my inner turmoil, Beckett shrugs. “It’s all good, Charlotte. If it’s not for you, then it’s not for you.”
As he steps away, I catch a whiff of his familiar scent, so reminiscent of the ocean. It infuses my senses. I remember breathing him in when he was kissing me. When his face was buried in my neck. When his fingers were gliding down my body, turning me over so Will could put his cock in—
Enough. I can’t think about it anymore, damn it.
Embarrassment creeps into my cheeks. “It was a fantasy. And I got it out of my system.”
“If you say so.”
He’s not touching me. There’s a foot of distance between us, and his hands are in the pockets of his faded blue jeans. Yet I feel the phantom sensations of those hands on me. His tongue licking a line up my thigh, traveling toward my—
“It’s okay to want it, Charlie.” A knowing smile flits across his lips.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back the sting of tears.
Then I exhale and say, “I’ve never felt more ashamed than when I left your house that morning.”
That visibly startles him. “Charlotte—”
“No. Just drop it. I have to go. My friends are waiting for me.”
I can feel him watching me walk away, but I don’t look back. I find Faith and Blake at the front entrance, and I must not be doing a good job keeping my mask in place because Faith’s features soften with concern.
“You okay?” she asks. “You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine. Just remembered all the stuff I have to do when I get home tonight. I guess I’m feeling overwhelmed.”