Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Balto slowly lowered the phone, sighing in disappointment.
That conversation went as I’d expected it would. “Thanks for trying.”
He slipped the phone into his pocket then looked at me. “Want a drink?”
I nodded. “Yeah…”
I’d been shot.
Stabbed.
Beaten to within an inch of my life.
But nothing had ever felt as bad as this.
Another week passed, and other than work, I didn’t go anywhere.
I lay in bed or watched TV on the couch, my mind usually on the fiery brunette who’d lit my life on fire…then turned it to ice when she left.
I was miserable, worse than miserable.
Balto stopped by often, just to keep me company without actually asking me anything about Catalina. He talked about sports, the baby, Cassini…anything that had nothing to do with Catalina.
But I thought about her, regardless.
I drank a lot because I had nothing else to do. A week had come and gone since the last time I saw her, and I couldn’t imagine being with another woman, even if two months had passed. I couldn’t even imagine paying for sex, even if it was only physical. How would I ever recover from this? How would I ever enjoy another woman when there was only one I really wanted?
I lay in bed that night, looking at the ceiling as the lights of the city filled my bedroom. I usually closed the electronic drapes, but I hadn’t been sleeping much, so it really didn’t matter.
My phone lit up on the nightstand.
It was never Catalina, so it was hard to be excited about that subtle vibration. But I grabbed it anyway, knowing it could be about work.
It was a notification on my phone—that the garage had opened.
My pulse started to pound in my ears, my heart began to beat erratically. It could be Balto, but it was unlikely that he would show up in the middle of the night and leave his wife unattended.
So it might be her.
Fuck, I hoped it was her.
The house was silent, so I heard the faint sound of the door. Then there were footsteps, growing louder and louder as they approached my bedroom, the tread light, like a small person with a purpose was headed toward me.
I stopped breathing.
My door was open, so she stepped inside, a shadowy silhouette in the darkness. She crept closer to the bed, the lights from the city rising up her body until she stepped completely into the light—and it illuminated her face.
Her gorgeous fucking face.
I sat up slightly, holding up my torso with my elbow against the bed. My eyes stared at her, unsure what happening, unsure if this was even real.
She was in a sweater and jeans, makeup gone from her face as if she’d had no intention of going out when she decided to come to my place. It was impulsive, like she’d missed me so much she couldn’t bear it a moment longer.
I stared, paralyzed, the sheets over my boxers, hiding how hard I was at the sight of her in my bedroom.
She came closer to the bed and grabbed the hem of her sweater. Then she slowly pulled it over her head.
Yes.
Her bra came next and then her jeans, a pile forming on my bedroom floor, her panties on top.
I breathed hard, unable to believe this was happening, that I would be inside the woman I loved in just seconds.
She came to the bed and got on top of me, her hair falling down around my face as she held herself above me.
My hand slid into her hair, and I brought her face to my lips, kissing her hard, kissing her as quickly as I could.
She breathed into my lungs, panting at the cosmic explosion of our touch. Her hand gripped my shoulder, and she clawed me like a wild cat climbing up a tree. Her other hand moved to my chest, planting itself hard against my muscle.
My hand pushed my boxers over my hips, letting my cock come free.
She lowered herself onto my length, rolling her hips back so she could position my head directly over her pussy, straightening it so she could slide down in one fluid motion.
I groaned so loud against her mouth I sounded like a monster.
She moaned against my mouth, her nails digging deep into me.
“Baby…” I wrapped my arm around her waist and flipped her to her back, wanting to make love to her the way I used to, smash her into my mattress as I pinned her down, keep her underneath me so she couldn’t get away.
Her legs locked around my waist, and she gripped the back of my shoulders, breathing hard into my mouth, tears escaping the corners of her eyes from emotion, not because I’d made her come. “Heath…”
I thrust into her hard, like I was being timed, like I only had so long to enjoy her. “Baby, I fucking missed you.”