Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
A few hours later, after more scribbling than I’ve ever done before, with tears rolling down my cheeks, exhaustion finally took over. I unwrapped my hair and body from the thick cotton, tossed it at the foot of the bed, and got under the covers. Sleep took over, but it feels like I’ve been put through the wringer between the physical and emotional turmoil.
“Hello.” I don’t recognize the number, and when I squint at the time, I realize it’s later than I first expected. Who knew I could snooze until nearly ten o’clock in the morning? Sleeping the day away is the last thing I want, especially if I want to work on the backyard today.
“Hello, is this Lyric Skye?” the voice on the other end of the line answers. I sit up straight, holding the phone with one hand and pushing my hair away from my face with the other. I’m very much awake now. The male voice is smoky, deep, and slightly raspy. The cool brooding intensity gets to me, and he’s only said a few words.
“This is she.” I look down at my naked body. One could blame the cool air for my flesh to raise with goose bumps and my nipples to harden into tight tips, except I know the truth. The stranger on the other end of the line has me all fired up.
“I’m with Jagged Edge Construction. Joss gave me your name and phone number. We’ve had a cancelation in our schedule, and I can fit your estimate in this morning, if you have time.” Yep, most definitely the voice. My thighs clench together, and I’m going to have to take a cold shower before I even remotely think about meeting the stranger.
“Uh, um. Yes, that will work. What time were you thinking?” I survey my room. My luggage lies open in the corner, clothes pouring out, some on the chair, some on the floor, and then there’s a sundress I had the forethought to hang up. So much for wearing another set of grimy clothes to work in the yard today.
“I’m free in about thirty minutes.” A couple of quick calculations in my head tell me I’m going to need at least ten minutes to do my bathroom business, minus touching my hair, five minutes to get dressed, maybe another five to grab a cup of coffee and muffin downstairs, leaving me with ten minutes to spare to meet him. I can totally do that. I’ll just have to get my ass out of bed, a problem considering I’m still sitting in said bed.
“That works,” I reply. My own voice sounds different from normal. Jesus, I can’t be lusting over a man simply because of his voice, can I? I shake my head, making a mental note to grab another bag from my car that has a certain toy. Maybe I just need a good orgasm. Yeah, that’s what I need.
“Sounds good. See you then.” He hangs up the phone. I throw my body back on the mattress, dropping my phone and stretching. My arms lift over my head, my toes go into a point, and some of the tension I’ve been feeling slowly floats away. Too bad I can’t stay like this for much longer. I’ve got to get ready, and fast.
I jump out of bed, going wobbly at the sudden and swift movements, but that doesn’t stop me. I pull the covers up and slightly straighten them; I will do better next time when I’m not in a rush. I move through the room, closing my notebook and moving it to be closer with my purse in order to take it with me. It’s a good thing it’s big, too, because carrying around two notebooks isn’t for the faint of heart. I go about tossing my clean clothes back in my suitcase and putting the dirty ones off to the side and then move into the bathroom. The last thing I want is for housekeeping to come in my room, it being way more untidy than necessary, and them think I’m a slob. That’s the last thing I want spread around town. Here’s Lyric Skye, overstaying her welcome at the bed and breakfast, and she’s a beyond messy to boot.
“Shit,” I mutter. Time is dwindling down, and I still have a lot to do. I head into the bathroom, still naked from last night, which I guess makes it easier, because when my eyes land on the mirror, my hair is a hot fucking mess.
“You’ll never learn.” I grab my toothbrush, put some toothpaste on it, and turn the water on. There’s more than a slight chance I’m going to be late, but it’s either that, or I’m going to have to bypass coffee and a snack. I don’t even wait for the water to heat up. I’m on a mission, one that won’t make me late. I shove the toothbrush in my mouth and scrub my teeth while tipping my head backwards. It’s going to take a miracle to tame the wild mess of my hair. Letting it dry naturally in the Florida humidity is asking me to look like I put my fingers in an electrical socket, but what other choice do I have?