Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“I can’t just forget about them,” she says, sounding husky and unconvinced.
“Tell them good dick is hard to find. Surely they’ll understand.”
My fingers delve between her legs, searching for the nirvana I found last night.
“Are you sore?” I hope I don’t sound as desperate as touching her makes me feel.
“A little.” Her fingers tighten at my neck. “But I’ll be ready by tonight if you want me again.”
Tonight. Damn. Not as persuasive as I thought I was. “So you won’t spend the day with me?”
“I have plans with Kimba and Viv,” she says, apology and regret in her eyes. “I promise tonight is yours.”
“Will you spend the night again?” I’m asking too much too soon. I know that, but everything feels compacted. Seeing her again randomly after four years, making love our second night together, whatever we get this week—it’s all shoved through a tiny window I want to toss a rock at and shatter.
“I’ll spend the night, yeah.” She draws the robe back and up and around her, tying it at the waist. She reaches past me to grab a slice of burnt toast. “But I have to go now.”
My arms and my kitchen are empty. She starts up the steps, and I take off after her. Her eyes widen over her shoulder when she sees me on her heels.
“No!” She laughs and speeds up, zigzagging down the hall like that will deter me. She makes the amateur mistake of running into my bedroom and trying to close the door. I push until it opens and stumble into the room. She’s giggling and spread out on my bed, the robe gaping to show me her supple curves and lean lines and pretty pussy.
“Come catch me,” she says, her arms extended to me.
I fall into the disarray of sheets scented with last night’s sex and pin her beneath me.
“Are you sure you can’t stay?” I ask, one last plea.
“No, my friends are waiting for me.” She reaches down between us to grip my cock, squeezing. “But I’m not that sore, and they can wait.”
CHAPTER 16
LENNIX
“Your dad or your boyfriend?” Kimba asks, dipping a trio of French fries into a dollop of mayo nestled in the red-and-white-checkered paper cone.
I glance at my phone.
“Maxim’s not my boyfriend,” I answer, giving her half my attention and the remainder to the call. “And it’s not him or Daddy. It’s Mena. Better see what she needs.”
“If you say so, Miss I Popped My Cherry by Spending the Night with a Stranger.” Vivienne laughs and takes a sip of her ginger beer. “We’ll just be here eating our weight in fries and rubbing our feet.”
We visited the Anne Frank House today and did a walking tour of the major sites. We’re sucking this city dry of every experience possible.
I leave them and their ribbing at the sidewalk café and walk toward a low wall a few yards away.
“Hey, Auntie,” I greet Mena. “How goes it?”
“Fine,” she returns, a smile in her voice. “Enjoying Amsterdam?”
“Very much.” An unrepentant grin spreads across my face. I’ll share all the details with her when I get back. “Everything okay? Did my father put you up to this? I’ve got him down to one call a day, but if he—”
“No, I haven’t spoken to Rand, but it doesn’t surprise me he’s calling so much. You know how hard it is for him when you’re away.”
“I know. I get it, but what happened to Mama…” Mama’s disappearance and presumed death form a broken circle that never closes, and I know those question marks are like scythes chopping into my dad’s sanity some days. The least I can do is take his calls and reassure him I’m okay.
“I get it,” I finish lamely after a moment. “So if you aren’t calling for Dad, what’s up?”
“Remember when we talked by the river right before you left?”
“Of course.”
“Has your path been made clear yet?”
I hesitate before answering. I want to tell her yes, but the three options I have still sit there, none of them compelling me to take a step. “Not really.”
“Okay. I have something that may interest you while you decide. Maybe. No pressure. I don’t want to influence your choices, but this just seemed—”
“Spit it out, Auntie.”
“I have a friend from college in Oklahoma, Jim Nighthorse,” she says, an eager note entering her voice. “Cherokee Nation on his mother’s side. He’s running for Congress.”
My mental antennae peak, and I go still. My fingertips tingle.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Tell me more.”
“He’s amazing, Lenn. He’s a lawyer and has represented several cases on behalf of the Cherokee Nation the last few years.”
“That all sounds incredible. What do you want? How could I help?”
“You could work on his campaign. I can email you his file, but don’t take a long time to decide. He’s setting up interviews now to outfit his staff. It’s gonna be a tough race. His opponent, the incumbent, supported a company’s bid for a pipeline in Oklahoma a few years ago.”