Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
I pray that Dad will hold her off. I’m trying my hardest to stay optimistic, and with JW offering to help with the use of Fletcher Wild, maybe it won’t come to asking for financial assistance to keep things afloat until whatever this is blows over or gets figured out.
Me: I’ll come over tomorrow after work, and we can talk. Everything’s okay for now. I love you.
I switch my phone to do not disturb. No more noises or vibrations are going to interrupt my evening dinner, a drink or two, and a hot bath. I’m back at the fridge, pulling out the contents for a charcuterie board type deal.
First thing's first, my drink of choice. I grab a plate and a tumbler, then I go about making my Aperol Spritz. The ingredients are easy, and I keep them on hand—Aperol, Prosecco, sparkling water, and a lot of ice.
I don’t particularly care to cook that often, but I can work with what I pick up at the farmers' market weekly, like fresh produce, dairy, eggs, and sometimes I’ll grab some locally grown meat too. Tonight is not one of those nights. I top my drink off with a couple of slices of orange, then pull out some cut veggies, same with cheese, and a few different fruits. The best part of a dinner like this is the dip. Today’s choice is tzatziki and hummus. Decisions are hard, and why can’t a girl have a bit of both? I finish off my now overfilled plate with crackers, picking it and the tumbler up, and walk through the house.
Whereas Whisked Away always has music playing, when I’m home I take comfort in the silence and stillness. Sadly, the only time my brain shuts down is when I’m asleep. Thankfully, none of this mess has carried into that area. The minute my head hits the pillows, the lights are off and I’m dead to the world until the alarm blares the next morning. My one-bedroom, one-bathroom house may be small to some, but it’s perfect to me. This home used to be a single-family style. It was sitting empty for years upon years until a local realtor snagged it for a steal. He wanted to keep the old-world charm and make it available as a rental property. Well, in Arrowleaf, the rent would be too high when most of the townspeople already own a home or live on their family’s ranch. Hence the smaller home I’m in, though I’d say I’m lucky since I’m on the first floor and his other tenants live in the upstairs part. It’s worked for a couple of years now. The front porch and yard are mine, and my neighbor, Erin, gets the backyard and that porch.
The showstopper of my place is most definitely the bathroom. It’s larger than most would be with a big vanity, a chandelier hanging in the middle, and a massive clawfoot tub. I use it as much as possible, especially on nights like tonight. My elbow flips the bathroom switch on, and I take a deep breath. The light and airy feeling helps me release the stress from life. I place my food and drink on the small wooden table next to the tub. You’d be amazed at the number of treasures one can find driving down the road on trash day. Half of my house is either from the side of the road which I repurposed, and the other half is from garage sales.
A quick turn of the knobs, using my wrist to see how hot the water is, then pushing the stopper in the drain. Some nights I want the water scorching, but tonight isn’t that night. I want to get in, eat my dinner, and turn on the new documentary being advertised everywhere. This documentary is about a drug lord who goes on a killing rampage, and when he’s taken into custody, his wife becomes the queen.
I strip out of my clothes and drop them to the floor. My terrycloth robe is waiting on the back of the door for when I’m ready to get out. The remote is in reaching distance, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve got a small television set up on the oversized vanity. It’s completely out of place, and the comments my sisters and Mom give me are out of this world. Dad, on the other hand, looked at the TV then at the tub and shrugged his shoulders. He doesn’t say a lot, but when he does, it’s worthwhile.
It's only when I’m standing in front of the mirror naked, taking in every slope and curve of my hourglass figure, that I go back to thinking about JW’s kiss. My hands cup my breasts, pinching my nipples as I remember his taste, his feel, and how I was ready to beg for more. The worry niggling in my head about making a fool out of myself is long gone, especially since I felt him and what he's packing. It’s not small by any means. My head drops back on my shoulders, one hand slowly creeping down my stomach. Right as my fingers reach the folds of my pussy, I’m snapped back to reality. The steam bellows around me, reminding me that I’ve got water running. And while I’d really like to finish what I started, there’s always later. And I’ve got plenty of material of JW in my spank bank.