Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
“More than ok,” I said as I laid her down. “I’m so very proud.”
“Fuck me, then,” she said, and yes, she was serious.
Dawn was rising when we’d finally finished, both of us spent. Rosie was snoring like a dozing angel when I eased myself away for a cigarette at the living room window. My laptop was still on the dining table, next to the used toys, and I looked at it in the stillness of the morning, remembering the adoration the girls had shown while reading my work.
Did I really believe their praise?
Yes. I did. Despite my inner criticism, I believed their praise.
I didn’t go straight back to bed. No. I didn’t start up a fresh chapter, either. Instead, I called up the name of one of my previous students from over a decade ago, whose career I’d followed as he’d established himself as an exceptional editor.
I checked out his website and found his email address, chiding myself for even entertaining the idea, but my fingers worked on autopilot as I wrote out a message. It was an impromptu decision, but aren’t they always?
I looked at the text onscreen, and the document I’d attached for him, and then I thought, fuck it. Why not? What harm could it do? Why not at least give it a try?
I hit send.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rosie
I could barely walk on Monday morning my pussy was so damn sore, even after a good day of rest. Lola laughed as I approached her in the library at lunchtime, because she knew exactly what I’d been up to.
“Yeah, ouch,” I said.
“Was it good, though?”
“Yeah, it was incredible. Hurts now, but it was worth it.” I cracked a grin. “Very worth it.”
She winked as I sat down beside her. “You’ll get used to the after pain, I promise. And pelvic floor will be your friend.” She laughed. “And Julian’s.”
“No doubt, but Julian says he doesn’t want me to get used to it. He says it’s only for very special occasions.”
“Same here. Pete always makes me beg for it before he dishes it out, but still. Pelvic floor, believe me. It’s a life skill.”
She gave me a whole load of techniques and I committed to them, wanting to make sure I was the slut dreams are made of – especially Julian’s. I wanted to grip him like a vice, as he liked to put it.
I also completed an essential assignment that had been on my radar for weeks, and I booked in to my doctor for the contraceptive pill. As much as I loved Julian’s cum dripping from me every chance I got, I didn’t want a baby to add to our situation. Not even if it was Julian’s.
Maybe he’d end up like one of those celebrity eighty-year-old fathers with four generations of kids or something. The thought made me laugh, and it occurred to me, just how immune I was getting to ponderings about age gap dos and don’ts, even if the rest of the estate wasn’t. I was still getting barrages of insults, and bitching everywhere I went, but fuck that, and fuck them. People needed to get a life, rather than being so concerned with mine, but like hell they would. I’d probably still be getting bitched at for years to come.
Unless we moved away.
The thought was there. Always.
What if Julian and me moved away when I was done with college?
Did I really want to be in Crenham Drive for the rest of my life? No. I didn’t. The place felt like a claustrophobic dome of judgement and small-mindedness that I used to take for granted, but I was past that. Once the veil is pulled back and you see things as they really are, there is no returning. I wouldn’t have been able to pretend to be sweet little Rosie in my crappy life on this estate, even if I’d wanted to.
But there was something else, of course. Something that would hold me back beyond anything.
Mum.
Every day without her was getting harder. It was like a gulf widening, minute by minute, my heart growing more and more desperate to hear her voice and see her smiling. Memories were springing up at me, constantly. The tiny details of things I missed were magnified. Even the thought of how she clutched her mug of tea was enough that I felt tears calling. I needed her so bad.
Just not badly enough to give up Julian.
With Mum back at work, and me at college, our paths through the block wouldn’t cross very often, if at all. It was hell, knowing she was so close, but so far. One floor separated us, but that floor symbolised the world. Yet again, I could only begin to imagine the pain Julian went through when his whole family cast him aside.
He was smoking at the window one night later that week when I was missing Mum especially bad. I looked at how he was staring into the distance and wondered how bad he was missing his kids and his brother, and even Katreya. Surely all the time.