Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
After smiling at my shocked expression, she rips off her apron, tosses it onto the kitchen counter, then yells to my father that they’re leaving in five. Once he grumbles back that his look takes time, she shifts her focus back to me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? You haven’t been to a harvest dance since…”
When she pauses to ponder, I inwardly answer, “Since Janice lost her virginity under such horrible conditions, I swore I’d never lower my standards for anyone not worthy of my time.”
I smooth the grooves down the sides of my nose when my mother finalizes her answer, “It would have been right around Janice’s sixteenth birthday. I’m sure she’d love to see you. Dylan has gotten so big. He is double the height of every other six-year-old.”
“Those dreaded Jones genes,” we say in sync, laughing.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing.” She shuts up my giggles quickly when she nudges her head to Cash. “You could have the Jones and Mancini genes to contend with.”
I bark out a reply, “God, no. We’re not at the baby stage yet.”
I want to die a thousand deaths when my reply gives her an in to a question she’s been wanting to ask all day. “So you used protection?”
My throat feels burning dry, so I swallow before eventually bobbing my head.
I expect a scold, or at the very least, a stern warning about teenage pregnancies since almost all my female cousins have had a scare before their twenty-first birthdays, but all I get is a second pat on my hand and a murmured, “Good girl.”
Chapter 29
Cash
“Are you sure I’m allowed up here?” I enter McKayla’s bedroom like I’m not aware of how many guns are in her father’s gun case before twisting on my feet to face her. “Your dad has been eyeing me weirdly the past couple of hours.” I lower my voice to barely a whisper. “I swear he can smell you on my skin.”
“He can’t.” McKayla’s voice is nowhere near convincing. “And it’s fine. The harvest dance goes for hours, and they’re always the last to leave.”
“All right.” I enter her room further. “But I really fucking hope he replaces his bullets with air rifle pellets. I can’t sustain a shotgun wound to my ass and live. It isn’t possible.”
A grin curls on my lips when McKayla murmurs, “Says the guy who read a book where a guy survived a bullet to the head.”
“I didn’t read it,” I argue back, my smile picking up. “I know someone who knew someone who read it.” When I notice several shredded corners of glossy paper stuck under strips of tape on her walls, I drop my eyes to the empty bin in McKayla’s room before straying them to the closet. “Did you have a sudden cleanup?”
“No.” She exits the bathroom, stunning me when I notice the snow gear she’s wearing before directing me away from a wall I’m certain was covered with posters only minutes ago. The torn corners are a telltale sign of a poster being ripped from a wall instead of being removed delicately. “The tape was old, so it refused to budge when I removed them years ago.”
McKayla is a shit liar, but considering I got a little carried away last night when I should have been nothing but gentle, I’m not going to call her out on it.
Well, maybe a little. “Sure, sure, Einstein.”
After guiding me to the desk under the window of her childhood bedroom, she plonks my backside onto her chair before wheeling over the one usually located under Benji’s desk.
“We’re studying again?” I have to force my words through the vomit sitting in the back of my throat. We undertook a two-hour session earlier today, so I was hopeful her invitation to her room was for a recap of the event we undertook yesterday afternoon.
Those lips.
That pussy.
Those moans.
Fuck. I’m hard now just recalling them.
“Yes,” McKayla advises, blinded to the disappointment on my face. “Except this time, when the game is over and you are declared the winner, you’re going to teach me something.”
“What could I possibly teach you that you don’t already know?” My tongue thickens when her eyes drop to the seam of my sweatpants, and she licks her lips. “You want to… you…” I stop making a fool of myself when humor replaces some of the lust in McKayla’s eyes. “You want to suck my dick?”
Her head bobs up and down two times before she switches it to a shake. “I want you to teach me how to please you like you please me.” Like a temptress who knows exactly how fucking tempting she is, she licks her lips again before raising her eyes to my face. “If you win…” She takes her time spelling out her terms like I’m not hanging off her every word. “If you don’t, we might have to watch a movie or something.”