Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
He backs up, turns and goes to the table, lifting another taco shell and filling it while I stare, more than a little dumbfounded. He flashes me a smile and I manage to unglue my feet to get away from him.
After throwing my clothes on quickly, leaving the robe on the bench, kicking the slippers off, then getting my shoes on, I rush to the living area where I grab my coat and my phone.
“Don’t forget your pepper spray,” Derek calls over from the kitchen.
He’s cleared the table and looks like he’s putting food away. I don’t dilly dally. I grab my shit and rush out. I run to the elevator, press the button, and feel like my heart is on fire waiting for it to come.
When it does, I collide with a stunning blonde.
“Oh sorry,” I say, backing up.
She steps out of the elevator and looks me over, frowning.
“Who are you?” she asks.
“Nobody,” I tell her.
“Which suite were you visiting?” she demands.
I probably look like something the cat dragged in. The tips of my hair are damp from the bath and my eyes must be puffy from all the crying.
“I...” I start, then back up into the elevator. “The one before the last door over there.” I gesture and press the button. She tilts her head curiously and I’m pretty sure she considers sticking her hand in to stop the door from closing so she can ask more questions. Mercifully, she doesn’t.
I cry all the way home, followed by a navy-blue SUV that continues past me when I pull into the driveway.
I’m awake when Adam gets himself into bed beside me and although I’m pretending to be asleep, I’m physically startled when he rolls into me and spoons me from behind, kissing my shoulder before settling in. He hasn’t done this in seven months. Longer than that, even. And it feels like a knife twists in my heart as a lump of emotion clogs my throat.
I got a return message from Derek’s fake message to Alannah.
I don’t blame you. He’s hot AF. But gurrrrl… be careful. His behavior is definitely suss. I think we need to talk this out. Love you lots but you might just be the flavor of the month. Don’t fall in love, gf.
I replied with:
Don’t worry. Love is 100% NOT gonna happen. And you’re prob right about the flavor. Love you. XOXO.
Not two minutes after I sent the message to her, my phone buzzed with a message from Derek.
You’ll love me. Not soon enough though.
I saved his number as DS Cavalier even though I wanted to throw my phone. A helpless feeling enveloped me instead as I realized I was putting him in my phone under a code name. And it felt eerily similar to the feeling I got when I was told about Adam’s spinal cord injury.
But in addition to feeling helpless, I feel deceitful. Like a cheater. I slept with someone tonight out of fear, but I still did it. I might have tried to just lay there and take it like a corpse, but that’s not what happened. I came harder than I’ve come in my life. I squirted. But it doesn’t count as part of the hall pass. At all.
Five minutes after Derek’s text, something dawned on me, so I wrote back.
Are there cameras or microphones in my bathrooms?
He replied.
Of course not. But that can be remedied if you force my hand.
I angrily cleaned the faces of my kitchen cupboards, organized the coat closet, and did it feeling like I was being watched. Because I was. I wondered where the cameras were. My eyes kept scanning to see if I could spot them, but nothing. After a long, tearful shower, I dried and dressed for bed behind my shower curtain as it was the only place that felt private. I was in bed with the lights out at 10:35 in case Adam came home early.
I see four o’clock in the morning before I finally fall asleep, spending all night staring into the void, no idea what to do about any of this.
I won’t stop myself from watching to see how she reacts to my actions. I want to know. I want to see. I anticipate her responses, look forward to seeing how she’ll respond when I push a little harder. I know I’m becoming addicted, because I need to keep reminding myself to check my pace.
I’ll ramp things up a notch at a time to give her everything.
I want her longing. I want to see it, feel it. When I enter a room, I want her focused on me. I want to know her nipples have gone hard, that her panties are wet. I want the sight of me to make her body react in ways that astonish her.
I know women find me attractive. I want something much deeper than what I get from most women this time. How deep? Each time I see her, each reaction I get leaves me wanting even more.