Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
By the time I shut the bathroom door behind me, my panties are soaked, and my nerve endings are so sensitized it’s all I can manage not to take care of myself right there on the bathroom floor. I can’t remember being this desperate to be touched in my entire life. I’m pretty sure I want Derrick to spank me more than is sane or healthy, especially considering how often I’ve made fun of spanking scenes in porn. They always look so cheesy and forced.
But I have a feeling nothing about being turned over Derrick’s knee would be cheesy. Or forced.
Or anything but hot as fucking hell.
“Screwed,” I mutter to my reflection around my toothbrush. “You are so screwed.”
Not yet, a voice whispers in my head, but if you play your cards right, I bet we could be rid of this pesky V-Card before the clock strikes midnight.
I spit forcefully into the sink, ignoring the wicked whisper of temptation.
I’m not going to fall off the wagon that easily. At least not until I talk it over with a trusted friend first.
Chapter Sixteen
From the texts of Harlow Raine
and Cameron Brennan
Harlow: EMERGENCY ALERT! I have five minutes for an intervention! Are you around?
* * *
Cameron: Yes. But I’m asleep.
* * *
Harlow: False. You can’t text in your sleep. And it’s seven thirty! Time to wake up and give your bestie some sound advice. Up and at ’em, soldier!
* * *
Cameron: Okay, okay. I didn’t get home from work until one in the morning, so I’m not sure how “sound” my advice will be, but I’ll try. What’s the problem?
* * *
Harlow: Same problem. Second verse same as the first, except I think Derrick might actually want a relationship. Or at least to date and see how that plays out.
* * *
Cameron: Oh. Wow. Okay. How do you feel about that?
* * *
Harlow: Like it would be a terrible idea, obviously! We’re all wrong for each other. The way we’ve been getting along this week is an anomaly. A glitch in the matrix or something. If we did anything more than bang and part ways as friends, I’d regret it. I know I would.
* * *
Cameron: Is Derrick open to something casual?
* * *
Harlow: I don’t know. I haven’t asked. I’m afraid if I mention the possibility, we’ll be naked and going at it on the floor before I can explain my special circumstances.
* * *
Cameron: Which are…? Sorry, I feel like I should know the answer to this, but I’m still half asleep and it’s so warm beneath the covers it’s hard to concentrate.
* * *
Harlow: Then throw off the covers and open a window, buddy. I need you sharp. And I need you to forgive me in advance for being a big fat liar. I’m not as experienced in the bedroom as I may have led you guys to believe. I may, in fact, have almost no experience with anything past third base.
* * *
Cameron: Hold on. What?
* * *
Harlow: I’m a virgin. And I only have a few minutes left. Derrick’s taking Gram and me on some kind of surprise adventure, and he’s already threatened to spank me if I’m late, and I really wanted him to spank me, Cameron. I wanted it more than I’ve ever wanted maybe anything except coffee and chocolate during finals week. And if I spend an entire day watching him charm my grandmother and be sexy and flirty and clever and make jokes while he squeezes my butt when he thinks no one is looking, I am going to be a lost cause.
No amount of logic will be able to get through to me. I will hurl myself at him, pussy first, and my tragic fate will be sealed!
This is your last chance!
PULL ME BACK FROM THE EDGE BEFORE I CRUSH MY BONES AND SOUL ON THE CRUEL ROCKS OF BAD SEX CHOICES!
* * *
Cameron: Whoa. So much information. And emotion.
And so many caps. I think my eyes are bleeding.
* * *
Harlow: I CAN’T HELP IT. I NEED HELP! AND I NEED YOU NOT TO HATE ME FOR LYING. I just felt so embarrassed that I’d given everyone the wrong impression for so long that I let you all assume you were right. It felt less mortifying than confessing I was a poser.
* * *
Cameron: Of course, I don’t hate you. I mean, I hate that you felt you couldn’t be honest with us, but I get it. I was tempted to lie about it, too.
* * *
Harlow: You were?
* * *
Cameron: Absolutely. I’m a twenty-four-year-old dude, Harlow. Being a guy virgin is never cool, but it’s especially lame past the age of sixteen. People hear I still have my V-Card, and they assume there’s something wrong with me. Or that I don’t know what I’m doing in the bedroom. The fact that I spent years doing everything but having penetrative sex with my dubiously religious girlfriend doesn’t matter. I’m not considered cool or strong or thoughtful for waiting. I’m a putz.