Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Oh right, the flat tyre. I completely forgot about that. Not that anyone can blame me.
“Is that the first time you’ve had an orgasm?” he asks me as the sky gets darker.
We’re still sat in the car, waiting to be fixed. The company he called said they’d be an hour, it has only been thirty minutes.
His question shocks me and I choke a little on air. “Umm… no. Obviously I’ve… you know?”
His smile widens to one of cockiness and eagerness, “Do tell.”
“Everybody masturbates,” I mutter, nervously tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Fuck me, you’re cute.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey,” he places his finger under my chin and finds my eyes with his. The way they stare directly into mind with such softness makes me feel like he’s caressing my soul. Parts of me I’ve never felt before want to detach and wrap around him, keep him locked to me forever. “Don’t ever apologise to me. You’re precious.”
“Precious?” Blush.
“Perfect,” he leans forward and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Cute and sexy and so bloody pretty I just want to eat you.”
“You just did,” I blurt without thinking and hang my head in shame.
He throws his head back and laughs, his arms coming around my neck and pulling me to him over the console. Kissing my hair he pulls back and makes eye contact once more. “Did I tell you I’m fucking ecstatic I gave my heart to you on the beach that day?”
“You might have mentioned it.”
“Good, because it’s true.”
“I believe you,” I admit because I do believe him, maybe it’s my young mind and maybe his sweet words are in fact tricking me but I can’t help it and I don’t care. This is the kind of thing you find in a fairy tale. Not in real life.
I get that the dating phase is the best phase but something tells me that this is real and this will last. Maybe I’m naïve, I don’t care. I’m just lucky to feel like this. I’m lucky to have Caleb even for a few minutes, let alone for as long as I have already.
Chapter Three
“You’ve got paint on your nose,” Caleb grins.
“What?” I rub my nose on my sleeve. “Where?”
“Here,” his thumb rubs across the bridge between my eyes making them cross to watch his thumb. “Gone.”
I step back and admire my work, I’ve painted his bedroom in three different pastel shades, green, blue and lilac. It sounds weird but it looks amazing. Caleb and my mum both gagged at the idea but now it’s done I’m sure they’ll love it. Each colour blends into the next. It’s bright, it’s airy and it’s perfect.
“I love it,” he gives an impressed nod, admiring it with me. I want to stick out my tongue and chant like a child, ‘told you so, told you so.’
“How are the shelves coming along?” He’s been downstairs for a while trying to set up a bookcase.
He lowers his head in embarrassment, “Not too good actually.”
I laugh and wrap my arms around his waist, “It’s okay. We’ll do them together in a minute. Go put the kettle on, I need to finish up here.”
Caleb is extremely talented with everything academic, but is entirely hopeless when it comes to building, skating and even biking. Football too. Pretty much anything that involves any kind of coordination with his body or the use of his hands. Not including when his hands are slipping between my legs, now his hands really know how to work magic in this area.
It’s one of the things I love about him.
He’s also not the best dancer in the world, not unless he’s dancing with me and then it’s like we’re making love on the dance floor.
I place all of the paint trays and rollers in the bath and get to work on cleaning them. Once those are done I head downstairs and laugh when I see the state of the room. There are planks of wood all over the place. None of them organised, none of them labelled.
“You’re hopeless,” I snort and squeal when he starts tickling my ribs.
It’s been a week since our car tyre blew on us and I still can’t believe he’s actually staying. I’m actually stood in his new house, covered in paint with my heart hammering a mile a minute. I feel on top of the world.
We have somewhere to play and by play I mean make out properly. And by make out properly I mean have sex.
Caleb isn’t a virgin, he lost his innocence when he was only fourteen years of age. Apparently it was messy, awkward, and uncomfortable.
Also he came in about three seconds.
He knows what he’s doing though and has promised me that when the time comes he’ll take it slow and make it as painless and as beautiful as possible.
Just being with him will be beautiful.