Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Dragging down the front of my dress with his free hand, he roughly grabs my breast, tugging my nipple between his fingers. The sensation is all it takes to send me over the edge. Overwhelmed, I drop my head forward and latch onto his shoulder with my teeth, listening to him groan before he plants himself deep inside me, where I feel his cock pulse as he comes.
Still shuddering with the aftermath of my orgasm, I let go of him with my teeth and tuck my face into his neck, feeling his body go rigid against mine. Outside the heat of the moment, he must feel the pain of my bite.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, closing my eyes, heat climbing up my chest to my cheeks. “I… I wasn’t thinking. I—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts while lifting me off him, and I acutely feel the loss of him as he slides me down his body. Once my feet are on the floor, he keeps hold of me, adjusts my dress, then lets me go.
Biting my lip, I wrap my arms around my middle as I watch him tuck himself back into his pants and fix his shirt without looking at me.
He might be standing right in front of me, but I get the feeling he’s already gone.
“Did I hurt you?”
At my whispered question, his body jerks like he’s suddenly reminded of my presence, and his gaze comes to me.
“No, Franny,” he says softly, his eyes roaming my face for a long moment before he reaches out brushing his fingers softly along my cheek. “I’m gonna go.”
“Okay.” I swallow over the lump in my throat when his hand drops away and watch him open the door.
“Lock up.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. One second, he’s there, and then the next, he’s gone.
Going to the door, I flip the lock in place and rest my forehead against the cool metal. Even having zero experience with this kind of situation, I know that was all wrong.
Maybe not the beginning.
The kissing and touching were good—better than good… in fact, better than anything I have ever experienced. But the end...
Shaking my head, I push away from the door and walk to the bathroom. The moment I flip on the light, I’m greeted with my reflection in the mirror. Messy hair, swollen lips, flushed cheeks. I look well-fucked and on the verge of crying, which is absolutely ridiculous.
Going to the shower, I turn it on, then strip out of my clothes before I step under the spray of water. The evidence of what we did is easily washed away, but the memory playing over and over in my head isn’t.
Easing my way down the shower wall to my bottom, I take a seat on the tiled floor and wrap my arms around my legs, dropping my forehead to the tops of my knees.
I should be happy that he left the way he did, that he didn’t stay or attempt to make it complicated. Still, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I messed up by letting him leave, and I for sure messed up by sleeping with him to begin with.
CHAPTER 4
Francisca
“Mom!” I call out as I walk into my parents’ home, with PJ running ahead of me and disappearing out of sight into the living room. I’m sure he’s on the hunt for my mom’s cat, Dallas, who he likes to chase around the house any time we come to visit.
“In the kitchen!” she shouts back.
Kicking off my sandals by the front door, I head down the hall toward the kitchen. The closer I get, the stronger the smell of garlic gets, making my stomach sour and my mouth water—and not in the good way.
“You don’t look so great,” Mom greets me as I step through the swinging kitchen door that is propped open.
“Thanks,” I mumble, and she rolls her eyes as she walks toward me, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, while Jacob—who is sitting on one of the barstools, drinking a Coke, with his other hand in a bag of chips—laughs.
“Stop being dramatic. I’m just saying that you don’t look like you feel well.” She stops in front of me and rests the back of her hand against my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
“I’m fine.” It’s a lie. I feel nauseous, and the smell of whatever it is she’s making is not helping.
“Maybe you’re coming down with something.”
“I’m not,” I lie again, or maybe it’s not a lie.
You can’t just come down with pregnancy.
And that’s what this is.
How do I know?
Well, four days ago, after realizing that I missed my period, I took a pregnancy test, and it came back with two lines so dark there was no misreading it. Still, I took about a dozen more in a multitude of brands just to confirm the first wasn’t a fluke, and they all came back the same way.