Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Faster and harder, I thrust, swiveling my hips to make the head of my cock touch that sweet spot that I know will have her gushing all over me.
“Oh, yes… yes…” Harper whimpers, her words muffled, but I can still make them out.
“Don’t fight it. Come on my cock,” I thrust my hips faster, listening to the sound of our skin slapping together, and watch as our juices drip down my length and gather at my balls.
Harper starts to come then; her channel squeezes the life right out of me. Once she starts to fall apart, my own release begins to crest. I come like I’ve never come before, my cock spasming inside of her as I paint her womb with my sticky release.
Sagging against her, I press a kiss to her clammy forehead. I’m falling for her, falling deeper and deeper, and soon there won’t be any saving me. My heart is growing again, beating stronger, and if everything falls apart again… I can’t even think about that right now. Easing out of Harper, I grab a couple of tissues from her nightstand that still hasn’t been packed and clean the insides of her thighs. I can feel her eyes on me the entire time, watching my every movement.
“Are you okay?” she asks for the tenth time, and I wonder if she can see through my mask, see how much I still fucking want her and how much it’s killing me to deal with all these thoughts and feelings.
Not wanting to ruin what we have, I nod, “Yes, I’m fine, babe, now stop asking me every five seconds if I’m okay. If I wasn’t, I would tell you,” I lie, because I’m not about to tell her what’s wrong. I don’t want to talk about it. All I want to do is forget and move on. I don’t want to continue to relive the past.
16
Harper
Warren has been acting strange lately, or at least stranger than usual. When he walks me to class today, Easton is already there, and, of course, he waves and smiles at me. I return the smile and wave before turning back to say goodbye to Warren, who is staring daggers into Easton’s head. I don’t understand his need to be territorial.
“Hey, I was just saying hi,” I say softly. “I thought we were past this?”
“I don’t care. I told you not to talk to him, and I’m tired of you doing whatever the hell you want. You know Easton pisses me off, you know his stupid antics make me lose my mind, but yet, you feed right into it.” Anger rushes off of him in waves.
Unable to hold in my own anger, I lash out at him, “I don’t do anything. He’s your roommate, and I’m your… well, I don’t even know what I am to you. All you keep saying is that I’m yours, but you’re not mine. So, I don’t know what that means, but it surely doesn’t mean you have to piss in a circle around me.”
The look in his eyes is feral, and his hands curl into tight fists, “You’ll regret talking to me like this. You belong to me, Harper. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Maybe I need to remind you of that.”
Without so much as a goodbye, he turns and walks away, leaving me to simmer in my own anger. Gritting my teeth, I stomp into the classroom and take my usual seat, tugging my books out of my bag.
“Everything okay?” Easton asks as I situate my stuff.
“No, everything is not okay,” I growl. I don’t understand him. We never discussed what we are or if we are exclusive. Which doesn’t even matter because all I did was say hi. I can’t wave at someone like Easton, who I share a class with? What am I supposed to do? Look the other way when he enters the room?
“Warren’s a tough cookie sometimes. When I first met him, I thought he was a douchebag. He fucked girls like it was a competitive sport, then you came into his world, and everything changed.”
“Great, he fucked every girl in this school, but I can’t wave at you.” I snort. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. We’re just mad at each other and need some space.” Easton nods like he understands, but I doubt he knows a damn thing about relationships. Walking away, he takes his own seat, and the professor starts discussing the reading material from over the weekend.
I’m knee-deep in notes, absorbing every single thing the professor says when the door to the room opens, and a woman pops her head inside. The professor stops speaking and walks over to greet her. They exchange a short conversation before the woman steps completely into the room. Confused, I set my pen down and wait for something to happen.