Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I tilt my head back, trying to stare up at the stars, wondering what it might be like to be someplace on earth that doesn't have so much pollution that I could actually see more than just a handful.
I grew up here, and any other time in my life, I'd love every second of it, but knowing that Henry could be just around the corner, waiting to hurt me or Kaylee, makes me wish I was so very far away that I couldn't even pronounce the name of the country I was in.
I swirl my hands in the water, taking notice of the pruning already forming on the tips of my fingers.
It brings back the memories from yesterday, something I've worked hard to fight.
Rubbing the tip of my thumb over my other fingers shouldn't make me think of him, but those thoughts are never far.
What happened with Henry, and Robert being here now, is confusing my mind.
The sex with Henry was decent. It was clear early on that he was a selfish lover, and that's one of the main reasons I kicked him to the curb. I don't have time in my life for mediocre sex, and I didn't see him making any changes anytime soon, so he had to go.
Curiosity is overwhelming my mind, making me wonder if Robert would fuck the same way Henry did. I have no doubts, after trying to keep my eyes off him in the gym earlier and finding it impossible, that the man wouldn’t be as big of a disappointment.
He had stamina, going by the way his body worked like a machine when he ran the entire time we were in there. The sweat rolling off him and completely saturating his clothes before we even got in there told me that he could work out for hours and not flinch.
How my mind got all slutty and transferred that to fucking all night long, I'll probably never know. But here I am anyway, running my thumb over my fingers as if pulling up the memories of touching his chest in the hallway is now a core memory, one I'll often visit every chance I get.
A noise to the side draws my attention, and I freeze, feeling guilty. It’s as if my thoughts of him made him form from the mist circling the hot tub from the warm water meeting the cool night air.
He freezes when he spots me, as if he's more than a little surprised to find me here.
He looks around as if he has been caught doing something wrong before his eyes lower back to me.
"I don't bite," I tell him, hating the sultry tone my voice decided to take.
"I umm..." he says. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?"
"With what Henry did," he says with a swallow, his hands clamping together in front of his body.
"I'm not uncomfortable," I assure him. "Some company would actually be pretty nice. I don't know that I've been around so many people and still felt utterly alone."
I clamp my lips together, wishing I hadn't made the sad confession.
"Excuse me," I say quickly. "I'm just having a little pity party right now."
He still hasn't moved, and I can't get past the idea that he doesn't want to be around me.
I press my hands to the edge of the hot tub and start to lift myself out.
"I can go."
"No!" he says abruptly, his hands flying out in front of him as if he's willing to actually subdue me and make me stay.
It doesn't frighten me like it probably should with everything that has happened recently.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I say, throwing his words right back at him.
"You don't," he says, but the clearing of his throat makes me think otherwise.
He still seems slightly reluctant even as he steps over the edge and sinks into the warm water.
The groan that rumbles from deep in his chest shouldn’t make me feel the way it does, but the warm bubbles licking at my skin, combined with the contrast of the cool air on my shoulders, has every sense coming to life.
It feels like an electric current swarming around us as he settles on the opposite side of me. It makes me wonder why he'd choose that position.
Does he want to be as far away from me as possible because he thinks that's what I want? Does he want to be able to watch me and note every single feature?
"I don't get out here often enough," he says as he sinks deeper into the water.
"I think I've been out here too long," I say, holding up my hand to indicate the shriveling of my skin. "How long have you lived in Vegas?" I ask, wanting to keep him talking. I'm genuinely interested in his response rather than just making small talk like I normally would.