Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I roll over cautiously, finding his side of the bed empty.
I’m taken by surprise when a sharp sob forms in my throat. I pout at the indent of his head on the pillow, reminding myself of an angry kitten. My eyes swell with frustrated tears, because I want him beside me. He can’t just leave. Who does he think he is?
Tossing aside the covers, I get out of bed, halting on my way to the bathroom when I find a handwritten note on the dresser.
Went out to get something. Be back soon. -B
What did he need so badly that he had to leave our room at the crack of dawn?
Why am I so needy?
I reach the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror, finding myself looking messy-haired, whisker-burned and…dumbstruck.
Oh my gosh.
I’m falling for Barry.
I really, really like him, don’t I?
Not just his protective nature or his vulnerability when it comes to his appearance, his family, his past. It’s the fact that we seem to have connected on a physical level that I never could have seen coming. Observing my nude body in the mirror, I run my fingertips up my hips, sides, dragging the featherlight touch over my nipples. I think of how he allowed me to tease his giant, aroused body until he couldn’t take it anymore. How he became increasingly excited by my demands. How he humped and panted on top of me while he used my ass for his pleasure. How he stiffened and howled when he came.
How he grinded my mound so hard into the bed, the pressure of his shaft in my rear hit some magic switch in my sex, that I felt the most intense bliss of my life.
I’m breathing hard.
Looking down, I see I’ve dripped moisture on the bathroom tile.
If Barry was in the room right now, I think I might let him take my virginity, with or without a condom.
But I can’t do that. I can’t let him get me pregnant.
Not when he has trauma about his mother being left in the same condition by an older man, such as himself. Secondly, Barry prizes his solitude. I can’t intrude on that, which is exactly what could happen by getting pregnant. Lastly, he’s embarrassed about my true age. There is no way he would want to be with me permanently. Getting pregnant would force his hand. He’d too noble not to be involved. I’d need him to be involved, wouldn’t I? I’m nineteen. I couldn’t raise a baby on my own. My sisters would help, but they have lives of their own.
After this wedding weekend is over, I’ll probably be saying goodbye to Barry forever.
I have to come to terms with that.
Restless and hollow, I decide to go for a walk. I put on a pair of shorts and a sports bra. Sneakers. I brush my teeth and throw my hair up into a ponytail. The resort is quiet when I leave the room, employees out and about, but no guests. I walk through the silent lobby to the outdoor courtyard, lifting my face to the sun.
There is a lake in the distance, and I decide to walk along the bank. Maybe even jog for a while to try and shake off the impending melancholy of being without Barry. But no sooner have I left the courtyard do I see a figure approaching, coming from the direction of valet parking. It’s Barry. He has the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up and a brown paper sack in his hands.
He pauses when he sees me standing there, across the foggy lawn.
“Petra?” He changes direction, coming toward me. “What are you doing out here? Alone? In a bra?”
“It’s a sports bra.”
“A bra is a bra.”
I cross my arms and make a face. “Whatever. I’m just going for a jog.”
He regards me silently for a moment. “Are you…angry with me?”
As soon as he asks me that question, I realize I am being the escort from hell. I’m not supposed to get miffed and out of sorts when my client runs an errand. What is wrong with me? I physically shake myself, dropping my arms to my sides. “No,” I say, the denial sounding a little too forced. “I’m fine.”
Barry shifts on his feet, his inhale rocky. “Did I hurt you last night?”
The obvious worry in his tone snaps me out of my funk. Mostly. “No. No, of course you didn’t. You could never hurt me.”
“I could have. Without meaning to.” His gaze travels down my body, and he shudders. “You had me very worked up, princess. I lost my mind there for a while.”
The clench between my legs causes my lips to part on a small gasp.
Princess.
He calls me that when we’re playing our little game. Having him refer to me as princess now puts me in the driver’s seat, like I was last night. He calls me that because he wants me there. He’s a Green Beret. Lethal by definition. He towers over me. Could subdue me with only a fraction of his strength. Yet he looks to me for something now.