Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Damn, babe, that sucks. I know you’re at work, so if you can’t talk right now, I totally get it.” I look around. There’s no one around, thankfully.
“I’m good for now, but if I quiet down really quickly, we’ll switch to paint. Which, by the way, that gold color is fabulous and will look so amazing outlined for my next batch.” This is what Kar and I do. Our conversations veer off path, and we talk about two different subjects at a time. And when we’re messaging, it’s ten times worse.
“Gotcha. I’m putting you on speakerphone while I eat.” Oh, how I wish I were at Talon’s house and able do the same. My parents are taking it exceptionally well that I’ve spent every night at his place, only coming home to change before work. Funny how neither wanted me to move out on my own, yet staying with Talon is completely okay.
“You’re good. Well, you know how I went through my internship and did quite literally the shittiest jobs possible? Well, I’m doing even worse here. My mentor hates me. I’m getting nowhere fast. I mean, it’s been a month. I’m sure I could do more besides clean and enter data.” God, I feel better saying that out loud. I’ve kept that in for the past few weeks. A job that I thought would give me purpose is making me realize I’d be better off volunteering instead of getting paid to do what I did in college. Plain and simple, this shit sucks.
“Okay, well, let’s pivot. Obviously, you’re struggling, and it's only hump day. You have two more days and I can tell from your voice this is tearing you apart.” Kar is my voice of reason. I should have called and talked to her about this a week ago. Staying quiet has done nothing good for me.
“Yeah, more than I care to admit.” My hand reaches for the container of watermelon, I pop the lid off, and grab a bite to eat.
“I can tell. So, quitting would look bad, but your mental health means more. What about going part-time, pick up extra hours at Captain T’s, and get off your butt and sell your oyster shell trinkets!” She’s been on me over this for a while. I’ve shipped her a couple, given them as gifts, and still, there’s a stack in my bedroom ready for their next owner.
“Fine, I’ll think about it. Because yes, you’re right. On everything,” I concede, taking a bite of watermelon.
“I’m not trying to be. I only want you to succeed, and, babe, you deserve more than the ulcer you’re giving yourself with worry.” Kar’s right, which means I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and soon.
“You said what I needed to hear. Thank you. Now, enough about me. Tell me all the things. How’s life? Are you dating anyone? Are you painting today?” She goes through the list of items I brought up, and we spend the rest of my lunch break catching up. And at the end of the call, I’ve figured out what I’m going to do. All that’s left is to put pen to paper.
14
TALON
“My very own version of Little Red Riding Hood,” I say quietly into the bedroom. When I walked into the house, it was quiet, almost too quiet, as in Kelsey wasn’t here like she told me she would be. Her bag and shoes in the living room told me another story. I moved through the house until I made it here. There Kels lies, asleep, with no sign of waking up. Hell, the covers aren’t even pulled down. She’s on top of the comforter, and there’s a throw blanket tossed over her body. I move closer, realization hitting me that there’s a pile of clothes near the dresser.
“Siren.” My ass meets the mattress, hand slipping beneath the cover, meeting bare thigh. Jesus, she’s so damn beautiful it hurts. I sit back, waiting to see if she can sense my presence like I can hers. It’s clear as day my woman is slap worn out. Neither of us can keep our hands off one another. The minute we’re both in the same place and behind closed doors, all bets are off. Clothes are dropped to the ground, and one of us is on our knees for the other. When Kels has her mouth wrapped around my cock, my hand fisting her hair, it’s damn near impossible not to blow my load like a pre-pubescent teenager. I hold back every single time. My woman is going to get hers before I get mine. I’m a gentleman that way. Either way, foreplay turns into me fucking her on any available surface, and I’m pretty sure in the past few days, we've christened every room in one form or the other.