Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Okay,” she says after a pause, squeezing my hand. “You can move in. You can pretend to be my boyfriend.”
Later, I’m in the yard with Mira, teaching her how to shoot a bow.
She looks up at me as she practices pulling the string, a mature cast to her eyes.
“I remember you, Rhett,” she says.
I swallow. “Yeah?”
“When you came along, it was like the old Mira popped up in me, like a jack-in-the-box or something, and then I didn’t have to be quiet and scared anymore. But you can’t tell Elle.”
“Why not?” I ask, voice grave, looking at the back porch, where Elle sits, a blanket covering her legs.
“Sissy would be mad,” she whispers. “Sissy wants to make-believe it never happened. But I’ll never forget. I’m happy you’re staying. We have to…” she hesitates. “Keep the dream, Brrr-Rhett. Elle will want the boring real world. But I like this new dream. It’s easier to talk in this new dream. With you.”
I nod, forcing a smile.
But inside, I’m thinking how much of a mess this is.
CHAPTER 10
ELARA
Iroll over, bringing my knees to my chest, anxiety twisting me into knots. It’s been a rollercoaster today. First, the heartwarming moment when Rhett gave me that wonderful book. Then the lust in the gym, followed by the terror in the forest. Finally, more warmth as I watched Rhett and Mira together.
Rolling onto my back, I sigh. Sleep feels a long way off.
I push the sheets off myself. My body is covered in a thin layer of sweat.
My thoughts keep returning to the dojo, to that moment of crazy confidence when I bent over and met Rhett’s eyes. I can’t stop thinking about how his body seemed to harden, like he was going to rip off his clothes and go full savage on me.
I press my legs together just thinking about it. My wet folds rub achingly against my underwear. A warm flush spreads over my chest, making my nipples tingle and bead against my bra. I bite my lip. I haven’t felt like this in a long, long, long time.
Maybe never.
If I stubbornly keep my mind on the dojo, it’s like I can forget everything else. Forget what I saw, or what I thought I saw, in the forest.
Someone was there. A ghost didn’t smoke that cigarette.
But not him.
“Stop it,” I whisper, gripping a handful of sheets. “Stay in that dojo.”
I force myself back into that memory, looking in the mirror. Rhett fixated on me as if I’m the only woman he can imagine ever wanting.
Then, as if it has a mind of its own, my hand glides down my stomach. Tendrils of warm lust spread down my thighs. My underwear is sticky, my core pulsing temptingly. My clit has never been this sensitive.
I can’t remember the last time I touched myself like this, can’t remember the last time I even considered it.
But I want that feeling back: powerful, owning my body, owning the moment, owning Rhett’s attention.
I gasp as I gently glide my fingers over the outside of my underwear. My legs twitch. I rub slowly at first, then faster. In my head, I imagine Rhett walking up behind me, grinding his hips against my ass.
His hands claiming my hips, gripping me hard, pulling me tight against him.
“Feel what you do to me. Feel how wild you make me.”
I moan, turn my head, and bite down on the pillow.
I feel him swell in his shorts, his thick manhood pushing against me. His breath is hot against my throat.
I can so easily imagine his breathing coming fast and hungry, tinged with desire, his thick steel rubbing against me. I close my eyes tight, grind the heel of my palm against my clit. My pussy is fluttering, wetness flooding my underwear.
Any nerves drain away when I slip my hand inside my underwear, pressing my hand against my skin. I bite even harder on the pillow to stop the whimpers from escaping me. Part of me wants to scream and get him in here, but I know I wouldn’t be able to be this confident in real life.
In the fantasy, I’m moaning insistently, begging him to tear my leggings off.
“I don’t want you to mess around, Rhett. I know you need me. I’ve seen you looking. Take out your hard cock and drive it into me. Oh, fuck, Rhett. Bury it deep, squeeze my ass and grab my hips as hard as you fuck me…”
I gasp, rocking my hips in time with my hand, jerking them up and down as the friction becomes addictive and unstoppable. I can hardly take it anymore.
My toes curl, then the fantasy changes.
Suddenly, I’m sitting atop him, my hands buried in his hard chest, my fingernails bending against his firmness. His hands gliding over my hips, squeezing possessively, sinking his touch deep into my curves.