Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
I’m at the kitchen counter wolfing down some food when Amie shoots from a dead sleep to her feet, disoriented. When her eyes settle on me, she looks relieved. I can feel it and see it.
“It wasn’t a dream,” I say, flashing a grin, “I’m real.”
She swallows hard, tucking her hair behind her ears before she reaches to the floor and picks up the pink underwear she dropped earlier. She avoids eye contact while she shakily pulls them up. My cock twitches as I watch her shimmy up the shiny pink material, covering up that luscious ass. She’s trying to do this quickly and without fanfare, but there’s certainly fanfare happening inside my sweats.
As I watch her button up her half-undone blouse, I have one thought. It’s been too many hours since I was inside her.
She quickly wraps the blanket from my couch around herself again and goes to her suitcases, one of which has some clothes half hanging out from earlier when Renee showed up.
“You want some food?” I call out.
“I’m starved. Thanks,” she says softly and slips into the powder room by the front door with a bundle of clothing and a toothbrush and toothpaste in her hand.
“You don’t wanna wait to brush your teeth until after you eat?”
She calls out, “No. That nap gave me muck-mouth.”
I snicker. That was a nine-hour nap; I’m not sure if she realizes it.
When she comes out, she’s wearing black yoga pants and a blue racerback tank top with a loose black mesh hoodie over top. On her feet are black ankle socks and she’s put her hair into a knot on the top of her head.
I’ve got a plate of chicken and potatoes with a side plate of salad on the table for her.
“Glass of wine?” I offer.
“Oh bless you,” she says after putting her things into her bag and zipping it up.
“Red or white? I’ve got both.”
“Whatever you’ve got open.”
“Nothing open. Which one should I open?”
“The one in the basket your mom brought,” she says almost shyly.
I smile. “The honeymoon mead?”
“Wait… no. Don’t open that.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head. “Never mind. I don’t… never mind.”
“You think if you open it, you’re accepting the gift, the welcome? The mating?”
She glares at me. “Open it. I don’t care. I already told you and your mom where I’m at.” She then lifts her phone. “Still no service? What the fuck?” She goes for her handbag on the bench and pulls out a charging cord and block, scanning the kitchen until her gaze settles on the outlet beside my coffee machine. She plugs her phone in.
I pluck the bottle out of the basket on the counter and open it, watching her fish through her handbag.
“Lose something?” I ask.
Her face is pink. She fishes through it some more.
“I hid your keys,” I admit, setting two glasses of wine down.
“You what?”
“The one in the car and the spare in your bag. Hid yours and mine. So don’t get any ideas about stealing my new truck.” I lift my glass. “Cheers. To us.”
“You did what?” Her blue eyes widen, and I suspect she’s wishing they could shoot lasers at me.
I tilt my head to the side. “Wasn’t born yesterday, baby.”
“Meaning?”
I snicker, lifting my brows instead of answering.
My little wildberry has fresh socks on late at night, suggesting she’s planning to put shoes on at some stage. Furthermore, she’s charging up her phone. She wants it juiced up so she can make a run for it as soon as possible. She’s hoping she’ll get away from my house and pick up a signal. And she’s fishing through her purse looking for keys, agitated about not finding them.
I tap her wine glass with mine. She lifts hers, takes a little sip, and then a big one. “Mm,” she hums after swallowing.
“You think that’s good, wait until you taste my dad’s moonshine. Maybe we’ll get into some of that tomorrow.”
She takes another sip and singes me with a dirty look. “So, it’s official. I’m your captive.”
I smile wide.
“Hiding my keys? This is more than you just stopping me physically from trying to leave by catching me and seducing me to distract me. This is… it’s felonious… unlawful… forceful confinement!”
“If you say so. Eat your dinner. You’ll need to top up on some energy, wildberry. And not so you can run away from me.”
“Oh no? Then why?”
“Because I’m ready to fuck you again.”
She stares, trying to look unaffected. And failing at it.
I continue. “And it’s been hours and I’ve got a lot of ways I wanna explore that hot little body of yours tonight.”
She bites her lip and drops her gaze, but not before I see her eye color shift from that bright blue of hers to something luminescent in a darker flame-blue shade.
Interesting.
And then she tries to shake it off.
“Look,” I gesture out the window.