Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He smiles. “Whatever you wanna do, count me in, babe.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Dora
“Sweet pea, we told you––” I pull the phone away from my ear. Dad tends to be a loud phone talker. “expectations in the grave.”
Here comes the standard parental I told you so.
“I know,” I say cutting him off, “but I had to do it and honestly––as bad as it was, I don’t regret it.”
Dad’s tired exhale comes through loud and clear.
“Honey, it’s me,” Daddy says, stealing the phone away. “How are you feeling? It’s normal to––”
“Oh my gosh,” I interrupt before he really gets going. “I’m fine. I’m b-better than fine actually. I feel l-liberated.”
A knock at the hotel door has me getting up from the bed and shuffling to the door in my complimentary slippers and fluffy robe which both Dallas and I jumped into as soon as we got back to the hotel.
Peering through the view hole, a set of gorgeous lips smile back at me. I open the door and he walks in holding up the much needed bucket of ice for our sodas.
“I’m sorry, honey. I just wish I was there with you…” my father continues.
Yeah, I don’t. I much prefer the boy who just walked inside our room and threw himself down on the bed.
“Okay, Daddy I gotta go.”
“Call me later if you feel like talking about it.”
About all the orgasms I’m going to force him to give me?
“Umm, okay, bye Daddy. Love you.”
Dallas’s robe splits open, exposing a muscular thigh lightly dusted with blond hair and…
“Love y––”
I hang up.
“Did you just hang up on on your dad?”
“No…yes. D-Do you have anything on under t-that robe?” I mean, he was just traipsing through the halls a la nude save for a robe?
Mischief flitters across his face. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
I shuffle to the end of the bed, and with each step I take, the more turned on I get.
“W-What do you s-suggest we order for dinner?”
The smile is back. The wicked one. “Whipped creme. Love it or hate it?”
“Love it.”
“Then I suggest we order some.”
A knock at the door has both our heads swiveling in its direction. Dallas is first at the door and peering through the view hole.
“It’s Katherine,” he says. Looking over his shoulder, he makes a face as if to say what do I do?
I throw myself down on the bed and groan. It was seconds from happening, the food foreplay I was promised. And Katherine picks this time to show up? I swear it’s almost as if my parents got wind that something big was going down and sent reinforcements to mess with my plans.
“Let her in, I guess?” Sitting up, I tighten the belt on my robe and Dallas opens the door.
An embarrassed looking Katherine Hamilton meets my eyes from across the room. She’s wearing beige slacks that look a decade too old––at the very least––and a pink blouse with a small stain on the collar. Her hair is still a major pile-up on her head but this time its anchored in place by colorful Chinese chopsticks.
“May I come in?” she says with a touch of snark.
What a lovely woman. I’m so psyched that I found out this is the stock I come from.
“Sure…h-have a seat.”
Standing behind her, Dallas catches my eye and points to the door but I shake him off. He wants to know if I want him to leave and I don’t. I need him here more than ever.
While Katherine takes the armchair, Dallas and I sit on the couch side-by-side. “H-How did you find me?”
“Your parents. They told me which hotel you were staying in.” She looks around. “Swanky.” Which, judging by her tone, is an insult.
For the next few seconds we sit quietly, the vibe in the room awkward as eff.
“Have your parents met him?” she says, tipping her head at Dallas. “Captain America.”
That’s when my long dormant anger spikes. “I’m t-twenty-one, in c-case you’ve forgotten. And yes, they have.”
“I have the stretch marks to remind me every day.”
My anger just spiked times ten. “Why are you here? W-We’ve already established you w-want nothing to do with m-me. So why are you here?”
She looks remorseful for a full minute, which, for her, is progress I guess. “I wanted to apologize for how I treated you today…my employee, Gladys, you may have seen her––”
“We walked past her t-twice. How could we n-not have seen her?”
“I need to get this out. Please don’t interrupt me.”
Oh my gosh. I’m missing out on food foreplay for this. “Listen here, I-I emailed you. And…and you were r-rude. I came to s-see you. And you b-basically did your best to run me out of your office c-crying. But y-you don’t get to c-come in here and call the shots. Get out.”
She looks startled––if only for moment. “I’m sorry, okay?” Her gaze shifts around the room nervously. “I’m sorry…I don’t know how to talk to you…you’re a real person, for shit’s sake.”