Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
"Romance."
The way he smiles at me makes my heart flip. "Yeah? What kind?"
"Just romance," I mumble, avoiding his gaze. There's no way I'm telling him that I read filth of the highest order. Some things, rockstars do not need to know.
"Uh-huh."
"Do you read?"
"I used to," he says. "When I was younger, I read all the damn time."
"You don't anymore? Why not?"
"No time." He sighs, his shoulders drooping. "I have no fucking time for anything anymore."
I stare at him for a moment, noticing the weary look on his face. He doesn't just look tired. He looks exhausted, the bone-deep kind that slowly erodes at your soul until there's nothing left to give.
Is that why he's here? Because he has nothing left to give? Because everyone always wants something from him and this is the only way he can get five minutes of peace?
I reach out instinctively, placing my hand over his. He blinks, his gaze meeting mine. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I can't even imagine how exhausting it is to do what you do every day, to always have people who want things or need things, or to always have somewhere to be or something that needs your attention."
"I chose it," he says, one corner of his lips lifted in a sardonic smile.
"Doesn't mean it isn't allowed to be heavy sometimes, Ash," I murmur. "Or that you aren't allowed to be human or need a break. People can only carry so much, you know."
He tilts his head, eyeing me silently. "I appreciate that, baby. More than you know."
I smile, settling back against the sofa. But when I go to pull my hand from his, he flips his over, catching my wrist.
"Tell me something else about you," he says.
"What do you want to know?"
"Is your man going to worry about you being gone for so long?"
A loud laugh erupts from my lips before I can stop it. "I'd have to have a man in order for him to worry about me. The only people likely to notice me missing are probably still…you know what? Nevermind."
"No, tell me."
"Arguing over a possessed vibrator," I whisper, staring at a loose thread on the sofa.
Ash chokes on a laugh. "Come again?"
I just had to say that, didn't I?
"My friend owns a spicy bookstore. They also have a selection of vibrators," I quickly explain, stumbling over the word. "We're pretty sure one of them is possessed."
He stares at me with wide eyes.
"It's a whole thing. Don't ask," I say, waving him off. Are my cheeks actually as red as they feel right now, or is that just my imagination?
"Oh, I'm asking." His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please, tell me more about the possessed vibrator."
"You're never going to forget this, are you?"
"Absolutely not. Why is it possessed?"
"Because the only settings it has are destruction, annihilation, can't-walk-for-a-week, and call-an-ambulance. It also spins and pulsates. And, allegedly, it lights up. But we can't find that feature. You don't decide what setting you want. The vibrator basically decides for you."
He's wheezing now, his fingers laced through mine. His index taps along my knuckles like he's playing some melody only he hears. It's surprisingly soothing. "Please tell me that you haven't tried this thing."
"Me? God no. It's like a foot and a half long. Orgasms are supposed to be little deaths, not actual permanent ones." I blink wide eyes at him. "We decided to give it away."
"So…you want someone else to die, huh?"
"What? No!" I cry. "It'll be a shelf piece for someone. Join the mailing list, win a possessed cock to show off to your friends." I slap my free hand over my mouth. "Um, I meant vibrator."
Ash grins at me, his eyes light. "I'm so fucking glad I almost ran you over today, Loralei. This is the most interesting conversation I've had in months."
"We're done talking about this. Tell me something about you," I say quickly, pretty sure I'm going to turn into a freaking volcano if I get any redder. Maybe this is why I don't date. When I do finally start talking, it's never about anything appropriate. Why in the world did I bring up that vibrator?
"Me?" He pretends to think about it. "I think you're cute as hell when you're embarrassed. And you're fucking adorable when you're rambling about plastic cocks."
"Silicone."
"My mistake. Silicone," he corrects, grinning. "You're fucking adorable when you're rambling about silicone cocks."
"You're not making me feel any less embarrassed, Ash."
"Wasn't trying to," he whispers, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You just came alive for me. I like it."
I swallow hard, pretty sure he can hear my heart beating because it's so freaking loud. And then I realize that's because rain is no longer hitting the roof. "It stopped raining."
"What?" His brows furrow.
"It's not raining." I scurry up from the couch and rush to the windows, peering out. If I don't, I might actually throw myself at him. "Ash! It's not raining!"