Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
She pulls me back to myself by digging her heels into my ass after she wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me in closer and closer. She’s incredible, she’s the world, she’s everything, and I can feel her trembling, her muscles tightening under me. She rides me like she’s not the one on the bottom, and when she comes again, I follow straight over the edge with her. I give a half cry of amazement that I managed to hold out as long as I did. Take that no-pump chump. I got at least eight pumps in, I’m sure.
She pulses around me after, and we come down from whatever euphoric land we entered together. I feel like I have about two seconds of strength left, so I use it to roll off her, but I pull her with me. While the heat might have given way a little, it’s still pleasantly warm in here, so we just lay there together without blankets to cover us up, half-dressed and entirely unashamed.
I’m happy. Truly happy. I don’t feel self-conscious here. Instead, I feel…I feel good. More than good. I can believe, when I’m with Remi, that things might be okay. She gives me hope. She gives me the ability to see it.
I had planned on asking her, but I was going to hold off, at least until the right moment, but it feels like that moment might be now. Now that we’re side by side, breathing together, her hand on my chest right above my pounding heart, I ask, “Would you go on a date with me?” I’m taking a huge risk by asking, no matter how right this moment is. I still feel the way every single one of the last years of my life burned away to ash. I still feel inadequate, unworthy. Like I’m cursed, and not just by the man who should have been a father to me, but by something greater. The universe, maybe. Universal curses are not something I want someone as pure sunshine and goodness as Remi is to tangle with.
Her hands stroke through my hair, smoothing over my temples as though she intuitively knows that it’s starting to pound there. “I would love to go on a date with you, Sullivan Carlson.”
Her saying my name gives me pause, and I don’t know why it should now, after all the years I’ve been using it. My dad’s last name. Not my real dad, but the only dad I ever knew. My mom always refused to talk about the actual incident. Maybe one day she will, but she couldn’t then, not even in a private moment. It could be that she didn’t want to burden me with it. Perhaps she thought something could still be salvaged, and it wouldn’t happen if she brought the past into it. I’ve always wondered, though. How could I not? Wondered who he was, I mean. What his name was, what he was like, what happened. I owe half my DNA to a nameless, faceless shadow.
“Are you okay?” Remi’s fingers smooth over my forehead, rubbing the crease between my brows. Her fingertips slide down my nose and lower, tracing a path over my bottom lip. “I thought if you were asking me, you’d like me to say yes.” She’s teasing me, and thank goodness she’s so good-hearted.
“I’m sorry. I’m such a dolt. Yes, I’m excited.” I nip her finger, sucking it into my mouth until her eyes close and she makes a small whimper of pleasure. I release her and reach up to cup her face.
“But you’re worried that we’re hiding here. We’re not, Van. It’s just the only time and place we can have any privacy, short of renting a hotel room or finding some dark alley somewhere.”
“A dark alley. Romantic,” I say, and at least she giggles. “And what grade of a hotel room are we talking about? Because I can assure you that I’ve made a small fortune in Europe, so it doesn’t have to be anything less than a five-star.”
“I don’t want a hotel room.” She smiles back at me and leans into my hand, nuzzling my palm with her velvet cheek. “I just want you. And you’re right. I don’t want to hide.” She pauses, and she’s comfortable with the silence in a way that no one else I know can. “You’re worried about Kimmy.”
“I don’t know how to talk to her. I know you must be putting her off, even if you haven’t talked about it. Told her that I’m being cagey or giving her breadcrumbs or something.”
“I haven’t done any of that. I’ve just turned the conversation to work whenever she asked me, so it’s clear I don’t want to talk about it. I told her last week that you aren’t interested in the company. I’ve always told her that. I won’t tell her anything else because it’s not my truth to tell. I don’t feel like I’m being dishonest or a bad friend. We needed some time to figure things out. Until I was sure myself, I wasn’t going to say anything. It would hurt her feelings and make it impossible for both of you to ever have a relationship with each other. But now, if you want to go on a date, I think I do need to talk to her about that.”