Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Fine.” My voice is husky and low. And then I place my hand over hers, the one still wrapped around my cock, and push inside her.
She immediately moans. And then her other leg draws up, her knee pressed against my hip as I move forward and back. Not fast though. She wants a quickie, fine. But I’m gonna take my time.
Her hands play with the loose curls of hair that just barely touch my shoulders while her mouth presses against mine in a kiss that is both urgent and careful at the same time.
And this is how I love her.
We come at the same time, we moan each other’s names, we make whispered promises that we absolutely mean.
I’m going to keep this woman forever.
We’re going to live a life that is full, and long, and blessed.
I can see it all in my head. A paradise far, far beyond the curse that has trapped me for the last two thousand years.
Pie’s legs drop back to the ground and then we just lie down on the grass. She angles her body into mine, one leg draped over my hip, one hand on my chest, one cheek on my shoulder.
“I thought you said we were in a hurry.”
She sighs. “We are.”
And then… we close our eyes and whatever hurry we were in disappears.
And in its place comes something else…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – PIE
The sharp voice of my mother jolts me out of my slumber.
Except I’m not sleeping. I’m not in a forest with Pell. I’m standing in a dirty hotel room. Two beds, both unmade, and only the crackling blue light of the TV flashing across the dingy walls for illumination. There is a crack in the blackout curtains across the one window and through this crack, past the snow- and salt-stained glass of winter, is the flashing chaos of Christmas lights strung up outside.
On the other side of the room is a closed bathroom door. A sliver of bright light leaks out at the bottom where the old, frayed edge of carpet meets the cracked tiles of the bathroom beyond.
The bathroom is where the yelling is happening. “Now look what you’ve done! You’re making a mess of things, Pie!”
I remember this place. We lived in this hotel for a little while. In my child’s mind, it was forever. But looking back now, it probably wasn’t more than a few months. We did spend Christmas here though. So I can place the year. Six, I think. I was six.
My mother is shaking me in that bathroom. I haven’t thought about this night in… well, maybe since the night it actually happened. But now that I’m here, seeing it again as a living memory, it’s all very fresh. Like it really is happening here in the moment for the very first time.
My mother is also screaming at me because of Pia. “That bird does not exist! She’s not there, you idiot! You moron! You’re making it up! And if you think you don’t have to listen to me… well…”
I was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Pia clutched in my hands, just looking at my toes slipping in and out of an oversized pair of leather boots as my mother grabbed my shirt at the shoulders and shook me.
“And you can play crazy all you want, but we know better. Where is the ring?”
Ring? I lean in, trying to hear more. Because I don’t remember anything about a missing ring when I was a kid.
“It was on your finger! Right here! Right here!” She’s screaming these words. I look around the room, concentrating on the walls for a moment. Wondering how thin they are. Wondering if the people on either side of this room can hear the yelling.
But there is a lot of noise coming from outside and on the other side of the walls. I can make out babies crying, and men yelling, and doors slamming. Wherever this hotel is, it’s not a place for tourists. It’s a place where you pay by the week. It’s a place where families go when they have no other choice.
It’s a place where a small girl from another realm ends up with a woman who is not her mother.
I am not this woman’s child. I think I’ve always felt this, but never quite believed it until now.
I do not belong here.
“I can’t do this anymore!” she yells. “Do you hear me? I can’t do this anymore! I should leave you here. Just walk out. Just leave and never look back! Merry Christmas to me!”
“What a bitch.” I barely mutter these words out. But the woman who is not my mother must have superpowered hearing or something, because she pauses her rant. Then the door comes swinging open.
“Well.” She plants her hands on her hips. “It’s about fucking time you showed up! This brat is ruining everything!”