Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Patrick: Or a bad sign.
Luna Locke: No, it's good. He'd tell us to fuck off if it was bad. He's busy.
Patrick: When did you become an optimist?
Luna Locke: I'm assessing the situation realistically.
Patrick: I think he confessed.
Luna Locke: You don't think she was into it?
Patrick: No. You're right. It's been a while. She's into it.
This time, I don't roll my eyes. I laugh. That's the attitude that comes with victory. Silly shit feels good. It's not salt in the wound.
Dare: Doesn't seem like you need my input.
Patrick: It's the time zone, really.
Luna Locke: Yeah, we can't help it we're nine hours behind you.
Dare: You two are quick on the buzzer.
Luna Locke: What else would we be doing at this time?
Dare: Sleeping.
Patrick: It's not that early.
Dare: Your girlfriend.
Patrick: That is a good idea.
Luna Locke: How is Imogen? Is she at your place?
Patrick: Summer classes.
Luna Locke: Right. She's very dedicated.
Patrick: She is.
Luna Locke: You both like smart girls.
Patrick: Who doesn't?
Luna Locke: Are you kidding? Tons of guys.
Dare: Who are you counting as a smart girl?
Luna Locke: Excuse me?
Patrick: We know you're brilliant.
Luna Locke: Do you?
Patrick: But you don't come across as a "smart chick" the way someone like Daisy does.
Luna Locke: Because I'm not a bookworm?
Patrick: You're too hot.
Luna Locke: Go on.
Dare: Too stylish too. Guys are stupid. We see a babe in a crop top and shorts and we think, "she's cool as fuck." We don't think, "I bet she's smart too."
Luna Locke: Who's saying "cool as fuck?"
Patrick: Moonlight, he's trying to distract us.
Luna Locke: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CALLING ME MOONLIGHT?
Patrick: You said only people who you like can use it. You saying you don't like me now?
Luna Locke: Fine.
Patrick: Maybe if you let Dare use it, he'll realize he can admit everything to you.
Luna Locke: Seems unlikely.
Dare: Doesn't seem like you need my input.
I check the time. Two minutes.
Dare: But, yes, Moonlight. I told her.
Luna Locke: !!!!!
Patrick: What happened?
Dare: Actually, she told me.
Luna Locke: I called it!
Patrick: Then?
Dare: Then… I gotta go. Duty calls.
Luna Locke: Darren Dickson!
Patrick: No. See, when he says "duty," he means "Valeria."
Luna Locke: And when he says "calls" he means, "I'm going to fuck her now?"
Patrick: Exactly.
Luna Locke: Can you confirm or deny this?
Dare: I can. But I won't.
I turn my phone on silent, and I let them debate the reality of the situation.
One minute.
I take a deep breath and let out a slow exhale. My shoulders soften. My stomach settles.
Val is fulfilling my fucking fantasy. This is supposed to be an evening of sensual delights.
Why am I so nervous?
You just answered your own question.
Because it's Val.
Because it's your fantasy.
Because you're inviting her into a place you've never shared with anyone.
I trust her more than I trust anyone. But I don't know if I can handle the intimacy. I don't.
After one more deep breath, I cross the space to her room. Her door is open a sliver, inviting me to listen.
She's quiet, inside. No orgasmic gasps or over-the-top moans. The same sounds I heard yesterday morning.
Val's heavy breaths.
Val, in her space, touching herself, for me.
My blood rushes south. My hang-ups fade. This is everything I want, too much of what I want, but it's what she wants too.
And she's in control.
There's no way for me to do too much, go too hard, hurt her.
I listen for another moment, then I knock, I slide the door open, I step inside.
There's Val, spread across the soft white sheets in nothing but her heels.
Where the fuck did she even get those heels?
The logic fails to appeal. I don't care where they're from or when she's worn them, or who she's kissed in them as long as I can feel them against my back.
"Dare." She lets out a soft gasp.
"Am I interrupting?"
"No." She blushes as she looks me in the eye. "Stay."
I take a step toward her.
She shakes her head. "You can look but you can't touch. Not yet." She holds my gaze as she slips her hand between her legs.
She rubs herself with slow circles.
Then a little faster.
Her eyes close. Her breath hitches. Her free hand tugs at the bed.
She fucks herself like she's alone, like she's only concerned with one thing: her pleasure.
She toys with herself again and again, pushing herself closer and closer.
Her movements speed. Her thighs shake. Her fingers dig into the sheets.
Then she's there, groaning as she comes, dissolving into the sheets.
She rubs herself through her orgasm, then she blinks her eyes open and looks up at me.
"Should I keep watching?" I ask.
"Yes." She motions to the mirror next to the dresser. It's not positioned quite right for where she is, so she shifts to the edge of the bed.
She sits up straight, her heels on the ground, her head high and proud, and she motions come here.
I join her at the edge of the bed.