Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Sex.
Plain and simple.
Good sex.
The best kind of sex she had ever had.
But that was all it was.
Great, amazing, but only for a short time kind of sex.
She grabbed the Brussels sprouts, a chili, some bell peppers, and few other ingredients. She didn’t go for any meat, but instead kept to the veggies.
Willow was already halfway through chopping the vegetables when Rebel stepped into her home, and as he did, she couldn’t help but stop and admire him.
He’d removed all his clothes and as he came into the kitchen, he showed off his fully ink-covered body. Willow had spent many hours wondering what he would look like naked, and nothing had compared to the actual thing.
Rebel had a lot of ink spread over his body, from his chest down to his dick, some on his legs, and then on his arms. She hadn’t seen his back.
He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
“Am I distracting you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Rebel chuckled. “I’m glad you’ve stopped lying to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
He released a little growl and she pressed her lips together.
“Fine.”
“Promise me something, Willow.”
“What?”
“Promise you won’t ever lie to me.”
Willow opened her mouth and closed it.
“What?” he asked.
“Then you’ve got to promise me the same thing.” She had no idea why they were promising each other anything.
“I promise you, Willow, that I won’t ever lie to you. I will always tell you the truth.”
She knew he was telling her the truth.
“I promise you, Rebel, I won’t lie to you. I will always tell you the truth,” she said.
He still had his hands wrapped around her waist.
“Will you be honest with me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you enjoy Brussels sprouts, or do you hate them?”
Rebel chuckled.
Willow had already prepared them, and she had everything waiting for her in a bowl.
“I’m not a fan,” he said. “But it has been years since I last tried them.” He pressed a kiss to her neck.
“Do you have any allergies?” she asked.
Did she want to run the risk of getting to know him?
“No, I don’t. Do you?”
“No.”
“That’s good to know. Cook for me, Willow. Surprise me.”
Rebel didn’t let her go and she had no choice but to cook with him holding her, which was very distracting.
His grip wasn’t too tight, but just enough, and the truth was she didn’t want him to let go.
She fired up her wok and added just a little oil. It was a nicely seasoned oil, one of her favorites.
The scents were already making her mouth water.
She didn’t know why she wanted to cook him an amazing meal, but she did.
She wanted Rebel to be … wowed by her.
Why?
It made no sense to her at all.
They were nothing to each other.
Two fleeting people in the night. That was all.
She added in the garlic, ginger, and chili, grabbing her spoon, and stirring it around for several seconds. There was no need to wait long to add the sprouts and bell peppers, along with the onions, and she added them to the wok.
She had gotten several seasonings together and after five minutes or so of stir-frying, she drizzled them on, finishing them off with a final flurry of pepper.
Rebel gave a little moan of appreciation and she couldn’t help but smile.
She hoped he liked the food.
Chapter Four
Rebel never had a woman cook for him before. He’d certainly never held onto a woman as she did cook for him, so this was all a new experience for him.
He didn’t want to let Willow go, but after she served them both, he knew he had no choice. Grabbing both bowls, he walked from her kitchen to the small dining area.
The last time he’d been in this part of the house was when he carried Bill upstairs after he had one too many.
“I’m a drunk.”
“Shut up, Bill.”
“Ha, you called me Bill. I’ll kick your fucking ass.”
“You’re never going to remember it, so we’ll consider it the same as all the other times you’ve said you’re going to kick my ass.”
He’d carried Bill upstairs and attempted to leave him on the sofa of his living room, but that had ended badly, because he’d chosen that moment to be sick.
So, being the nice person he was, he’d made sure Bill was okay, staying the whole night so he didn’t throw up in his sleep. It was during that night and the next morning, Bill had opened up about his daughter. He had pictures of Willow around the house, not too many, but enough.
“Who is the girl?” Rebel asked.
“Willow, my little girl, my only daughter. She hates my guts.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“It’s true. She was so happy to get away from me. The moment she graduated, she was gone. I’ve not heard from her in a long time. Not that I blame her. I wasn’t a good father to her.”
“I doubt that.”