Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Thanks for being the fling I never got to tell I wanted to be more?
Is saying any of that shit over text even okay?
Shouldn’t it be said to his face?
Is my brother right?
Should I have made the time to tell him everything before bailing?
Did I bail because that’s what I’ve always done?
What’s easiest for me?
Even with Wheeler, I basically ditched him whenever the chance to do something for work came up, but I just figured that was because I wasn’t invested like he was.
Yet here I am.
Totally invested in Justus Reese and flaking all the same.
OhmyGeordie.
I don’t really know how to have a work, life balance.
Ugh.
Does anyone though?
Is that like a trained skill?
Then again…how exactly do you get training if you never even bother to try it?
Coffee acquiring occurs quite a distance from my terminal and fortunately for me, by the time I actually arrive, boarding is beginning.
My first-class window seat honestly wasn’t my default choice.
I don’t mind flying coach.
I never have.
Beats riding the bus for longer hours with more obnoxious people.
And I would’ve flown coach this morning except if they overbooked – like they’re known to do – it’s coach passengers that get the boot first, which I cannot get.
I have to be on this plane.
I have to make it to my audition.
I have to get this job.
I have to… “make it so”.
Just like J.T. encouraged me to.
Sadness swells into a lump in my throat, pushing me to pull out my phone once more.
Put my fingers on the keys.
Try to type something – fuck, anything – to the guy who completely changed my life without even trying.
“They’re gonna tell you to turn that thing off,” an unexpected voice states from the seat beside me. “Might as well do it now.”
Disbelief immediately bobs my jaw.
No…
Seriously?!
He’s here?!
How?!
Why?!
How?!
“How…?” breathlessly escapes into the cabin. “How did you get a seat next to me?”
“Being a tech nerd has its perks.” The grin I don’t want to live without reaches his ears. “And so does being best friends with one of the richest men on the planet.” Giggles thoughtlessly flood the space prompting him to purr, “I always wanna hear that sound, Beloved.”
Melting over the nickname is attached to my hand landing on his forearm. “I’m sorry for ghosting you like I did.” Hope flickers through his hazel gaze in such a way I have to explain. Need to. “I should’ve called or texted or told you when I would call or text as soon as I could, but I guess…I don’t know dick about how to prioritize more than just work in my life. I’ve never had a reason to before you.”
“I’m told it’s a learning process,” he sheepishly murmurs. “And so is making time for those you wanna keep in your life.”
“Sounds hard, Imzadi.”
“Pretty sure karaoke was harder, Beloved.”
Warm snickers precede me proclaiming, “Well…I’m willing to give her all she’s got, Captain.” Our stares lovingly linger in one another’s. “If you wanna make this fake relationship real that is.”
“Do you?”
Gentle strokes of my thumb are delivered to the skin underneath it. “Yeah.” More sweet caresses are executed. “That’s basically what I was going to text when I figured out how to say that…”
“And that’s basically what I was planning to say when I sat down. That and how I found a bit of Kirk in myself to do the weird, crazy, seemingly impossible but most improbable thing of boarding a crowded flight simply to tell you I’m falling for you.”
“I’m falling for you too.”
Unmatched happiness spans through his expression and voice. “I like that.”
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”
Excitement has me momentarily sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. “You know…I’ve never had a guy just drop everything and get on a plane for me.”
“And I’ve never had a woman worth dropping everything to get on a plane for.” He sweetly leans over to let his lips lightly knock against mine. “Until now.”
Epilogue
About Two Years Later…
J.T.
I like drinking coconut water out of actual coconuts.
I also like drinking coconut water out of actual coconuts on a secluded, private beach.
But what I really like?
Licking it off my wife’s pussy while she rides my face on said secluded, private beach.
Another splash flies out of the coconut she’s struggling not to drop as she readjusts the clutch she has on my wet, sand ridden locks. “So close, Imzadi…” Sweetness from the beverage fuses with that already flowing across my tongue. “So fucking close.”
I clamp my hands down harder on her tattoo marked hips – loving the fact my wedding band will leave an impression in her skin – and furiously yank her forward again and again, coating her juices across my mouth.
Chin.
Nose.
More moans leak into the tropical air yet are hard to hear due to her knees smashing themselves into my ears, preventing me from hearing anything that isn’t the sound of my own slurping or panting.