Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Jet is sensitive and hasn’t even expressed much interest in girls before her.
Kennedy is resilient as hell, but her life up to this point has made it hard for her to trust anybody, and if she continues to invest in people who end up disappointing her, eventually, she’ll stop trusting anyone at all. Her heart is fragile, too. She’s never given it to anybody before, and if I’m the first and I fuck her over, it’ll be a hard thing for a girl like her to get past.
I don’t want to fuck up her chances at future happiness.
Hell, I’d like to believe there exists a reality where I can be part of her future happiness, she just needs to relax a little and give me some time to find it.
I’m worried her self-protective instincts are going to fuck us over in the days to come. She won’t realize she’s self-sabotaging; she’ll think she’s protecting her heart from a potential break, pushing me away before I can do it to her.
Tonight, she showed signs of already losing trust in me just because I didn’t flirt with her enough while we watched the movie. If she’s being that hyper-vigilant about looking for trouble, she’ll find it. She’ll see distance where there isn’t any, and she’ll concoct issue after issue to obsess over until she’s convinced herself the only thing she can do to protect herself is shut off from me.
She hasn’t had successful outcomes from trusting people before, so I know she won’t give me much leeway in that regard. The second the thread of her trust starts to slip through my fingers, it’s on the fast track to being gone.
And that’s already started.
I don’t know how to hold on to her while also moving at the speed I need to move at. I’m older and far more secure than she is; I don’t need to rush. I can take my time and still know I’m going to get where I want to be.
I believe she’ll get there, especially with my guidance, but maybe not if she cuts me off. If that happens, I’ll have no control over where she ends up.
I’m lying on the couch thinking of all the ways her future could so easily go off course when I hear a noise that sounds distinctly like the stairs creaking.
My heart thuds with anticipation. I sit up, knowing—maybe hoping—as I do that it’s going to be her.
And then I see her in her skimpy little nightclothes, stepping softly so as not to wake anyone as she enters the kitchen.
The sight of her brings a smile to my face. Her long hair is loose, the curls springy and wild. The refrigerator door opens and I wish I could see her bending over to grab a drink.
I throw back the blanket and get off the couch. I hear her close the refrigerator door, but she doesn’t move into my line of sight.
When I enter the kitchen, she’s leaning back against the counter with a little smile on her pretty face. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”
I shake my head. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Mm.” She nods like she understands and uncaps her fresh bottle of water. “Probably because you’re not snuggled up in bed with my naked body pressed against yours.”
Christ.
“Yeah, that probably has something to do with it.”
She shrugs as she takes a sip, then says, “Hey, that could have been your night, but you wanted to sleep alone on the couch.”
I don’t take her bait. I don’t want to fight. She’s down here when I was just thinking about her, and we have this moment alone. I don’t want to waste it.
I walk over to her. She doesn’t move as I approach, just holds my gaze, losing her smile when I stand towering over her. I plant my hands on the counter on either side of her so she can’t move.
“Looks like you caught me,” she says softly.
“Mm-hmm.”
She licks her lips, still holding my gaze. “What are you gonna do with me?”
I want to do so many fucking things to her.
The first thing that crosses my mind is her tits. I want to see them. I look down at that skimpy fucking top. I don’t know who invented crop tops, but I need to send them a fucking thank-you letter.
Letting go of the counter, I reach for the hem of her top and fold it up so her tits are exposed. “So fucking perfect,” I murmur, reaching for one and giving it a firm squeeze before I grab the other. Her nipples are already hard, and I know they’ll still be super sensitive since they haven’t been touched.
Unless, of course, she’s been touching them.
I like that vision.
“Are you sleeping naked in my bed tonight, Kennedy?”
She shakes her head, looking up at me as I look at her body. “Do you want me to?”