Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
She nods, taking it in. “Should we continue this conversation over some kind of breakfast? Some eggs and turkey bacon?”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Turkey bacon? You just naturally had that in the fridge?”
“Oh, naturally.”
“As of when?”
I’ve never seen Carissa devious before, but in a split second of her lips twitching and her eyes dancing with amusement and mischief, I decide it’s lovely on her. “As of about half an hour ago, when I ordered groceries and got them delivered.”
“What time is it?” I know it’s sunny out, but it can’t be that late.
“Just past eight. I wanted to let you sleep. I knew you’d probably be up late with your thoughts.” She unfurls her legs and dips one over, leaning on it and doing a graceful flamingo-like sweep with her other leg to land on the floor like a dancer.
My mouth goes dry, and my cock kicks itself into semi-wakefulness.
“I know your alarm is usually set for five or six so you can cram everything in, but just for one day, you could sleep in. I figured if you had something to get to today, you would have said so last night.”
“What time were you up?”
She tiptoes her way over to the window, then bends just enough to pet the cat that her jeans go a little bit further into wedgie mode. They’re already that type of fit, but for the love of wedgies, she makes wedgies look good.
“I just wanted to reiterate that you’re under no obligation to say anything along the lines of you wanting to make this work. What happened yesterday could just be a one-off. And again, just because I blurted out something wildly personal doesn’t mean you ever have to feel like you should return anything close to that sentiment. I’m a big girl. I’m okay with yesterday being something that breaks me and puts me back together in a thousand different ways until I can get to the point where I treasure the experience forever.”
She picks Pumpkin up. He doesn’t seem to mind the disruption to his sleep in the least, but then again, if I were being cradled against Carissa’s chest and stroked softly, complaining would be the last thing I’d do. Unless it was my cock protesting that it’s trapped in too many layers of clothing.
Carissa waves Pumpkin’s little paw at me, his pink toe beans flashing up and down. “I mean that in the most lowkey way possible,” she adds.
I’m half afraid to get up off the bed. At some point in the past few minutes, my semi has turned into a full-on morning wood, and I don’t want to just flash her with that. I’m more emotionally intelligent than to think sending a message like hey, I know we’re trying to have this deep conversation, but here’s an erection, just saying, is the least bit appropriate.
I glance over at my red leather pants folded at the foot of the bed. If the options are wrapping myself in the quilt off this bed or trying to grease myself into those pants sans grease, the blanket’s going to win every time.
Also? I have to pee. Shit.
This is going to be an entire process.
“You don’t have to worry. My mom’s not home, and she’s not expected back for hours. Wear what you want. Come as you are.”
My dick throbs hopefully at that last sentence. Of course it takes it the wrong way. I shove my hands over my lap. “What’s your mom’s name? I don’t want to just think of her as Carissa’s Mother.”
“Sorry! Did we not tell you her name yesterday?”
“I think there were more pressing things to discuss.”
“It’s Julia.”
“Julia. That’s a very unmotherly name.”
She laughs and waves the cat’s paw at me again. “Unmotherly?” She kisses Pumpkin’s face when he shoves it into hers. “She wasn’t born a mother. She was once just a baby, and then a kid, then a teenager.”
“Yes, sorry. I’m an idiot.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not.”
She smooches Pumpkin again. Woof Woof Dog raises his head, thumping his tail eagerly. He’s got the jealous dog look down. I quickly stroke his belly. In response, he raises his tail and curls it around his doggy parts before letting it fall back and letting out the longest and loudest foghorn fart.
I gape at the sound before I realize that sitting here with an open mouth and fart smells in the air isn’t the smartest thing in the world.
“Sorry!” It’s impossible for Carissa to keep a straight face. “Oh my god. You can have a shower if you want. I’ll make us breakfast, and we can eat in here. In bed.”
“Wait.” I snag her around the waist as she goes to walk by. She loses her balance, lets out a little squeal, and ends up sitting down right on my lap.