Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“I’m good.” I grabbed the bottle from Missy before she dropped it. Then I proceeded to pick up some trash from our late-night snack attack.
“Is he a drunk? Your dad. You’ve never elaborated,” Kara murmured from her chair, chin tipped into her phone.
“No,” I returned while shoving the empty licorice bag into the empty salt and pepper potato chip bag. “He just—”
“Corbin’s coming over!” Aubrey jumped out of her chair. “Oh my god. I need to sober up. Shit …” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How do I look?” She giggled, swaying a bit. “Why? Why on my wine night? Do I smell like wine?” Lifting her arm, she sniffed her pit.
I laughed, the only one to see her odd behavior.
“Do we have to go to our rooms, Mom?” Kara snorted something like a giggle and a cough.
“Water, bae. Lots of water.” I grabbed Aubrey’s hand and led her into the kitchen.
“I’ll have a full bladder.” She reluctantly took a few sips. “Then I’ll have to pee right after we … you know. Then he’ll sneak out. He always sneaks out.”
“You won’t have to pee.” Missy swayed, making her way into the kitchen with her empty wine glass and Aubrey’s empty Pinot bottle. “Not if he gives you an orgasm.”
“Why? I’m going to pee if I orgasm?” Aubrey’s nose wrinkled, showing her lack of sexual experience and apparently her lack of orgasms.
“I hope not.” Missy chuckled. “When you climax, your body releases vasopressin, an antidiuretic hormone, which makes it hard to pee.”
“Huh …” Aubrey’s head cocked to the side. “I’ve never had that issue.”
“Poor baby.” I guided the water bottle toward her mouth. “Drink up, and if he doesn’t give you an orgasm … pee on him.”
Missy leaned against the counter, glazed-over eyes lifting to meet my gaze. I returned a tight grin, that sympathetic one for our friend who was orgasm deficient.
While Kara and Missy retired to their rooms, I made a peanut butter sandwich—knowing I’d be grateful for the extra energy when surfing early the next morning. Aubrey sobered up in the shower for Corbin, the surf shop owner whom Aubrey adored. Given the recent orgasm revelation, I couldn’t figure out why she adored him. She didn’t even surf. Maybe he was good at cuddling.
When the bell rang, I took a huge bite of my sandwich and set it on the counter to let Corbin in for his bootie call.
“Oh …” I mumbled, covering my mouth, unable to say anything with peanut butter thoroughly coating every inch of my mouth.
“If you’re done being dicked, I thought we could take a drive.” Wylder gazed down at me.
Before I could finish chewing or even blink because I couldn’t believe he was there, Corbin sauntered up the drive behind him. His overbearing cologne reached the doorway before he did.
“Hey, Livy.”
I nodded at him, attempting to swallow. It was possible I overdid the peanut butter.
Wylder turned a fraction, eyeing stocky Corbin, a good five inches shorter than Slade. “This the guy who thinks he’s going to dick you?”
Nearly choking, I slapped my hand on my chest as I swallowed repeatedly. There was something quite hilarious about Slade Wylder and his intimidating presence using the word “dicked.”
“No …” My tongue swiped around my mouth several times. “He’s here to dick Aubrey.”
Corbin’s face wrinkled as his uneasy smile quivered. “Um … I … where is Aubrey?”
“Upstairs. She jumped into the shower because she had too much wine.” I managed to get my normal speech back. “Go on up.”
Without any introduction, Corbin squeezed past me and Slade. It had been five days since I’d seen my menacing lover. I had so many questions, like how did he expect to pass his classes if he missed them so often? Of course, I wanted to know where he’d been and if Miss Lexus was with him.
But … mostly I just wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me, smell the cedar and spice in the crook of his neck, and taste the mint on his tongue.
“I didn’t send you the text, dumbass.” I smirked, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and tugged him inside the house.
“Dumbass?” He raised an eyebrow.
I lifted onto my toes, keeping my hand clenched to his black tee. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Something unreadable ghosted along his face for five seconds before he gave me his mouth. My arms wrapped around his neck as his hands slid to my ass, lifting me up to hug him like a bear in their favorite tree. He pressed my back to the entry wall, void of anything on it yet, and angled his head, deepening the kiss on a low groan.
When he tore his lips from mine, they moved down my neck. I drew in a harsh gasp from that kiss.
“You taste like peanut butter.”