Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Caleb—”
“You can’t push me away without giving me one last chance to experience how good your sweet mouth sucks my cock, baby. That’s too cruel.”
“God, you’re an idiot,” she huffs. “Fine.”
“I’ll just get the wine I brought earlier,” I murmur, going to her mini fridge. I take out the bottle of wine, then sift around the small cabinet over the tiny sink and find a red Solo cup. I pour a glass of wine and bring it over to her. Handing her the cup, I keep the bottle in my hand.
“You’re not going to drink?” she asks.
I grin because she’s so shocked that she doesn’t ask me when I brought the wine. This is a big win. It’s almost too easy.
“I’m going to drink it off you. Now, strip naked and get on your knees in front of the bed. I want to be able to play with your tits while you suck my cock.”
“Always the romantic,” she huffs.
“It’s a gift,” I joke, my laugh sounding fake even to me.
I walk over to her bed, put the bottle down on the mattress and undo my pants. She looks up at me confused, while she pulls her shirt off, then tosses her bra on the floor too.
“You’re not even going to take your pants off?” she huffs.
“You like it when I fuck you against the wall. Didn’t you tell me it excited you to feel my jeans pressing against your skin?”
“I was mostly talking about how you couldn’t wait to have me—not that you were too damn lazy to take your pants off,” she grumbles.
“Well, I’m not going to waste time taking my pants off when you are only giving me this one time to remember you by. Now be a good little slut and open that pretty mouth for me,” he responds.
“FYI, asshole. That kind of talk is only hot when you have me close to coming. Not when you order me around just to get what you want.”
“Suck me, Izzy. I’m in a bitchy mood because you want rid of me. Bring me to heaven and I’ll show you just how much I need and want you, baby girl.”
“Damn it, Caleb. It’s not that I want to get rid of you. We just don’t have a future. I should have never started up with you. I knew better, but I couldn’t resist. Besides, you’re the one that told me you didn’t do serious, remember?”
“I didn’t until you,” I confess, and my heart hurts because she can tell I’m being honest. Sadly, I can also see why Izzy doesn’t believe me.
“Stop, okay? This is hurting me, too, you know. It’s better we do it now, though—instead of waiting and letting whatever this is get deeper—or worse.”
“What could be worse?” I ask.
“You remember you don’t do relationships and me ending up alone, maybe pregnant because a condom failed?”
“If I knock you up, trust me, the last thing I’m going to do is run, Izzy,” I promise.
“I won’t have a man who is just there because I got knocked up. This entire conversation is moot anyway. We’re over, remember? This is just a final goodbye.”
“Suck me,” I order, feeling so much pain at her words it’s hard to breathe. Taking a syringe from my pocket, I quickly insert it into her arm.
“Caleb ...”
“It’s going to be okay, Izzy. I promise.”
“What did you do?” she asks, as I take the syringe away.
“I’m not going to let you throw us away, Izzy,” I whisper. “Just rest.”
“You drugged me?”
“It’s just a sedative. A doctor gave it to me. It won’t hurt you, baby. I just needed to get you out of here without you fighting me.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, baby girl. I just can’t let you go,” I whisper. “We belong together.”
“Caleb …You … drugged me,” she slurs.
“I just needed time, Izzy. I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see—we’re meant to be.”
Once she’s out, I quickly pick her up and head down the back entrance to the dorm.
Fuck, I hope this works.
23
WHIPS AND CHAINS EXCITE ME
IZZY
I slowly raise my head. It’s pounding so loud I can practically feel it slamming into my body with the force of a sledgehammer. I try to massage my temples, which seems to be the most painful area. When I hear metal jingling next to me, I freeze. There’s a shackle on my wrist attached to a long chain. I move my gaze along to the chain and realize that it seems to be secured into the middle of the room on some weird device secured in the floor.
What in the actual hell?
My vision is a little blurry, so at first, I wonder if I’m imagining everything. Eventually, however, I’m able to focus and there’s no mistake. None at all. I let my gaze move through the room, but I quickly realize that this is some kind of hunting cabin. There’s the bed I’m in, and across from it is a potbelly stove like I’ve seen in old movies. There’s a small kitchen-like area. I say like because it basically consists of a microwave, a dorm fridge, a table with two wooden chairs, and a sink. That’s it. No cabinets other than the ones that are under the sink. There’s no stove or dishwasher. Which means—at least for me—it’s worthless. I notice a small door to the right. It’s slightly ajar and I can make out a toilet, so at least that’s good. I am not the roughing-it kind of girl. More than that, I’m not a girl who can handle going to an outhouse to do my business. I get sick at the prospect of using a port-a-potty. When the front door opens, I freeze, bracing for the worst, while hoping it’s the police come to take me home.