Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“God, yes,” I moan, feeling the rasp of his tongue on my clit again.
“Fuck the alphabet, butterfly. I’m going to use numbers, memorizing each sequence that gets you off only to do it again.” My eyes close, and I let him take control of my body. Ledger is hypnotizing me with his fingers and mouth, noticing when my eyes flutter open on one precarious sweep of his tongue, fingers sliding in and out of both holes. That his cock is hardening again doesn’t hurt either. My body rocks back to meet each and every motion, and when I come, it’s on a long moan as I call out his name, one hand gripping the sheets, the other on his leg, digging into his flesh hard enough I’m sure there’ll be marks later.
20
TULSA ROSE
I pull into the home Ledger grew up in before he bought his place next to ours the next morning. I’ve got another mission ahead of me. A quick phone call to my therapist talking to her about the past few days helped tremendously. After that call, I was on the phone with Nelle to tell her about my night with Ledger, a replay of what I spoke to my therapist about. Only with Nelle, I told her how the night ended. The way she yelled, “Yes, Tulsa Rose!” into my ear, I’d say she was happy that things were finally falling into place. Except for where I am right now. When I kicked Ledger to the curb, I did the same to his mom, and I’ve got a lot to atone for.
“Are you just going to stay in there all day, or are you going to get your butt inside?” My door is open, one foot in, the other out, in case I needed to make a fast getaway when Ledger’s mom, Heather, swings open her front door and calls me out.
“Coming!” I slide out of my Tahoe. Today’s outfit is another tank top, this time matched with a skirt that stops midthigh, and flip-flops. When you’re coming to Heather’s with your tail between your legs, the least you can do is not wear a pair of cut-off jean shorts. I close the door and take a tentative step away from my vehicle, worried how she’ll take me showing up unannounced.
“About damn time. I had to hear Mrs. Marble tell me you were back in town. Not even my own son deemed it necessary to give me a call.” That’s how I’m greeted when I take my first step up the stairs, holding on to the railing with one hand. I deserve her irritation. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, errors in judgment, stayed away all because of my own insecurities.
“Your son has been hogging every bit of attention when I’m not working around the house.” Heather, being her normal self, doesn’t say a word. She’s waiting on me. If anyone can read between the lines, it’s her.
“I take it you two stubborn asses are finally working through the years of bullshit.” Where Ledger is tall, muscular, and dark-haired, his mom is not. Heather is petite, much like me, blonde and green-eyed. Clearly, Ledger takes after his dad, minus the eyes. Heather handed him down her green eyes, sometimes more vibrant, depending on the sun and what color he’s wearing.
“Do you want the diluted version?” I take another step up, hitting the landing when she finally takes a step closer, allowing me to take a deep breath for the first time since I pulled up to her house.
“I don’t care what version you give me as long you do it while hugging me. Get over here, Tulsa Rose.” She opens her arms, and I fly into them. Everyone I’ve seen since coming home has been more than welcoming. Granted, it’s only been Ledger, Hank, and now Heather. “I’m an asshole, the biggest one of all. How you’re even hugging me or talking to me right now, I have no idea. I’m sorry, Heather.” This time, tears do not fall down my cheeks unchecked, probably due to the fact that I’ve done so much of it recently that I’m all dried up.
“Oh, hush, you’re not an asshole.” I snort. That’s a massive lie. “Okay, fine, maybe a small one, but, honey, you’ve been through more in seventeen years than most have been through in a lifetime.” She pulls back from our hug and holds my shoulders. Heather is one to talk. She’s a military wife, lost her husband when she was young, leaving her a widow as well as a single mom.
“I’m still sorry. I should have called you. If anyone could have straightened me out, it would have been you. Though it did force me to find an amazing therapist, and my best friend, Nelle, was there for me, too.”