Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
He covered his face and laughed, pulling his leg back. “All right. Let’s go to dinner.”
“And after dinner…lube orgy?” I proposed hopefully.
He cupped my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. He ran his thumb over my lower lip. “Whatever my princess wants.”
I wanted him. I just had to figure out how to stop wanting him before the wanting messed up our good thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
(Matthew)
Somehow, in a few minutes, Charlotte had managed to do for me what the therapist I’d run away from hadn’t been able to do: make me see that the situation with my leg was not the end of my life.
After a perfectly lovely dinner at the sushi restaurant where she ate her body weight in sashimi, Charlotte was eager to get back to the castle.
“I have a plan,” she informed me, linking her arm through mine. “Wanna hear it?”
“Of course.”
“I know you said you’re not into the slippery thing, but I do want to try it at least once. I was thinking maybe while I did that, you could find someone and get back into the swing of things.” She grinned at her own pun. “Swing. Get it?”
“I got it. I didn’t laugh because it wasn’t that funny.” I nudged her arm with my elbow. “Are you going to be all right on your own?”
She looked at me like I’d suggested holding her hand to cross the street. “I’m not going to be on my own. There are going to be like, a hundred people there.”
“At least,” I warned her.
“I’ll be fine. We came here to have sexy adventures. Let’s do it.” She paused. “Of course, I’m going to want details when we get back.”
“Obviously.” If I wasn’t going to look in on her activities at the orgy—and the chances of me resisting a peek in were slim to none—I would at least want to hear about it.
“We can trade stories and get off to them,” she suggested cheerfully. “I did love masturbating with you.”
Someday, her frankness would cease to shock me.
My stomach dropped at the thought. Someday? What we had was casual. Tenuous. At the moment, I couldn’t imagine my life without her, but she was young and didn’t commit to relationships. This wasn’t permanent, no matter how much I might want it to be.
I put those thoughts away. Charlotte was right. We’d come here to have fun. If her idea of fun was writhing around in a pile of slippery bodies, I wouldn’t stop her. And there was no reason to not have some fun of my own.
“Hey.” She tugged on my arm to stop me and looked up into my face, earnestness written on every feature. I braced myself for some heartfelt expression of friendship, but she asked, “Stanley Tucci never came here, did he?”
“God, I wish.” The man was a powerhouse of sexual charisma. “But no. I’ve never met him.”
“So, the DVD…”
“It’s a good movie.” I refused to defend myself on that score. “And if you’re not moved by the sheer coldness of one Ms. Emily Blunt—”
Charlotte held up her hand. “No judgment.”
We didn’t walk all the way to the castle. It would have been too much to ask of my leg, and I wanted to be at full power. A staff member drove us up on a cart, with Charlotte practically leaning out of the thing to see as we got closer.
The castle was an impressive sight when it was open, windows pulsing with lights from the many parties within. A cacophony of competing music filtered through the walls, though inside it would be too loud in the individual rooms to overhear what happened in the next one.
“This looks like the biggest party I’ve ever been to,” she breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement. “What do I even do in there? Walk up and join in?”
“That’s the idea,” I confirmed. “You’re about to get real friendly with a lot of strangers.”
She shivered.
Maybe something was wrong with me, but I wasn’t as enthusiastic about the prospect of splitting up as she was. Still, it seemed unfair to hold her back. “If you get overwhelmed again…”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured me. “And if I’m not, like I said, I know how to get back to your house. Maybe I’ll comfort myself with a movie. I’m sure you’ve got some mid-two-thousands romcom in there I can enjoy.”
“Don’t knock romcoms,” I warned playfully. “There’s no shame in watching people fall in love.”
“You only say that because you’re a romantic,” she argued.
“I’m romantic?” Why did it sound like an insult, coming from her? “Where did you get that impression.”
“From someone we’re not talking about on this trip.”
The cart pulled up beneath the porte cochere, and Charlotte hopped out before I could help her.
“Is this where we part ways?” I quipped, and she beamed at me. “Meet you back at the house tonight?”