Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“I’m not sick now. But I am being kept here against my will and I can’t even get an orgasm out of it.”
Tyler laughs again and covers my mouth with his. “Behave yourself, Liv. You’re tempting me, and it’s bad.”
I groan and reach for my water. I sip it several times before I put it back down. Seriously, it’s not my fault if I’m suddenly horny. It’s not like I can turn it off. And now that I’m not vomiting anymore, I can notice the fact that I do want sex.
Not that I don’t ever not want sex with Tyler. It’s just incredibly tempting right now.
For real. What does a girl have to do to get an orgasm around here?
“She has to eat and keep it down and not have an IV coming out of her arm,” Tyler answers.
Well, obviously I said that out loud.
“This is so unfair.”
“If you eat and keep it down, I’ll see what I can do when they take the IV out later.” He flicks my bottom lip with his thumb.
I nip it. “See what you can do? You either finger me, lick me, or fuck me. There really aren’t a whole lot of options, and if you can’t do any of those, I’m trading you in.”
He smirks. “I’ll see what food I can get you.”
“I want ice cream. And Jell-O. And sour candy.”
He stops in front of the door and looks at me. “You are not having those things.”
“Why not? I’m sick. That’s what sick people have.”
I smile triumphantly when he realizes that he’s backed himself into a corner.
“Fine,” he relents. “You’re not sick. I’ll get you food and I’ll give you an orgasm later. Okay?”
“At home. I want an orgasm at home.”
“Don’t push it.”
Three hours.
It’s been three hours since I ate a chicken sandwich and I haven’t vomited.
It’s a fucking miracle.
“Did you get me any chips?”
Tyler frowns. “What—oh. Those chips. No.”
“Oh. I want some.” I exhale. “I’m hungry. And I really need to pee.”
I swing my legs out of the bed and grab my IV. I wheel it into the bathroom, do my business, and go back into the room. Tyler watches me with amusement.
“I don’t want to get into bed.”
He laughs. “You’re a bloody awful patient, Liv.”
“Well!” I huff. “I’m not being sick. I’m peeing like a goddamn racehorse, and I’m eating. Why can’t I go home? Why do I have to stay in bed? My legs work.”
He stands and walks to me. “Would you like me to see if you’re allowed to get dressed and come to the shop with me?”
“Without this bitch?” I shove the IV forward.
“No, you’re not taking it out. They only just changed the bag. You know they said they’ll take it out when it’s empty. Now sit down and wait a minute.”
I sit in the chair he was just in and grumble something I don’t even understand. I don’t actually think I said any words, just a bunch of awkward, annoyed sounds put together.
Truth is, I know I have to keep the IV line in. I know I have to stay here until they say otherwise, but the problem with hospitals is that they’re not exactly relaxing. They’re too clinical and sterile. And boring. Completely boring.
“Okay,” Tyler says, coming back in. “You can get dressed and come down to the shop with me.”
“And how hard did you have to charm her for that?” I grunt, getting up.
He throws my leggings and shirt at me. “I’m neither confirming nor denying any charming happened.”
“Oh, please.” I snort. “She probably took one look at you, then you smiled and her panties were soaked.”
“Do your panties get soaked when I smile at you?”
“With the force of a tsunami. Obviously.” I tug my leggings over my butt and take the bag off the hook. “Put this through the holes.”
“Sorry. All I got from that was ‘put, this, hole.’” He grabs the bag and threads it through the armhole of the gown then my shirt.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Someone needs to get him some.”
“Someone’s waiting for someone else to get her ass better so he can.”
“Your powers of seduction know no bounds, Tyler Stone. Do I have time to change my panties?”
“Just leave them off. Forever. My life would be so much easier.”
“Oh, yes. You suffer so much trying to get inside them! How do you do it?”
“It’s a hard job, love, but persistence pays off.”
“Your persistence is why I’m knocked up and attached to a rolling bottle of water.”
He grins devilishly. “I’m a man, babe. I can’t help needing sex. It’s in my DNA.”
“Of course! I forgot the DNA strand that means you must have sex at your earliest convenience. And frequently, too.”
“Shame on you. You’ve come into contact with it plenty.”
“Please refer yourself to my earlier comment regarding your persistence.” I poke my tongue out and open the door.