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)
"This is Vegas. If I just wanted to get laid, I could find a hundred women to scratch that itch," I tell her.
"But they aren't me," she teases.
"Exactly. You're worth more than a quick fuck."
Her face falls. I didn't mean for the words to be an insult, but clearly, she's internalizing them. I'm not trying to devalue her, but I also can't control how she takes my declaration.
"And I'm worth more, too. Have a good night, Morgan."
I walk away because I'm seconds from stepping back into the hot tub and pulling her onto my lap. If that happens, I know I'm going to slip her bathing suit bottoms to the side and pull her right down onto my cock, uncaring about the video footage I'd have to delete later.
It's more than a little painful to walk away from her, but I manage.
I don't go directly to my room because the woman is right. If I head upstairs, I'm going to end up in the shower with my fist wrapped around my dick. It kills me to know that she'll be taking care of herself later already. I grab a towel in the den and head to my office.
There's always some work to be done, and I can distract myself long enough to get my body back under control.
Of course, I pull up the video feed to check on Morgan, not knowing how to feel when I see nothing but her wet footprints on the concrete leading to the back door of the house. It tells me she has already gone inside.
I fight the urge to rewind the feed and watch her walk into the house. As much as I'm struggling right now, it feels like a win.
I check the programs I have running, hating that I haven't found a damn thing on my brother. Then I spend the next two hours just sitting there, tapping my fingers on my desk because there's no way I can go upstairs.
My mind is already torn between going up to my room to fuck my fist and knocking on her door, forcing her to her knees, and feeding her my cock for tempting me in the first place.
Decisions, decisions.
Chapter 19
Morgan
I'd be a liar if I said my last conversation with Robert didn't hurt my feelings.
I spent the rest of Thursday irritated. Friday at work was an absolute disaster. When I got home, I avoided everyone altogether, choosing to stay in my room and think about every choice I've made in life that has put me exactly where I am—butt-hurt over a guy telling me exactly how he feels.
It was such a change to what I'm used to that I just didn't know what to do with myself.
I realize there's value in doing whatever the hell you want in life.
If you want the sexual freedom to go out and have sex as often as you like with as many partners as you want, then I don't see an issue with it.
What I didn't realize, and what took me sitting down and actually working through some of my feelings, is that how I've acted has left me feeling empty, as if I got nothing from what I've been doing.
Then I had to figure out if I actually felt that way or if I was projecting because of the conversation that we had.
I know that I’ve hooked up with guys. Although I didn't want or expect more from them than what I got, there have been instances where I felt like maybe I should've just stayed home rather than going out and finding someone to sleep with.
Maybe my issue has more to do with not being comfortable with myself enough to be alone in my own thoughts without looking for a distraction.
It has sent me on this spiral of reflection for the last two days.
All because I've met a man who values the time he spends with a woman, and I've never come across that before. I mean, maybe I have but I never stuck around with someone long enough to see it.
I also have to consider that I'm feeling this way in order to combat the rejection, another thing I can't recall ever facing before in life.
Men are simple creatures. Have a little fun with them, empty their balls enough, and move on.
Robert is so different. I just don't know what to do with myself.
He was right Thursday evening. Had he gotten back into the hot tub, I would've been all over him, trying to get him to take things further than he told me he wanted to go. That makes me no less of an asshole than a guy pressuring his girlfriend after junior prom to take the next step. And then getting pissed and accusing her of being a cock tease before using the blue balls excuse to see if that tact would work.