Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
After settling the shake of my hands with his, he repeats the process. We save four peas this time around, but when just as many land on the floor, I say with a giggle, “You’re going to curse the day you saved me.”
JR freezes at my confession I now see him as my savior instead of his captive, but he shuts down his shock before returning to showing me how to shell peas.
We work together side by side for the next several minutes, and the tension it causes is bristling. It crackles and hisses in the air as powerfully as it did this morning when I watched him stroke his cock. It is an awe-inspiring time that has me doubting more than my intuition. I thought I loved Cedric. He’s smart, energetic, and well-established, yet not once in the year we spent together did he have my body heightened with as much anticipation as it’s being bombarded with now.
We’re shelling peas, but JR’s lack of dictatorship and patience is like an aphrodisiac. Every fine hair on my body is paying attention to each movement he does, and the occasional smirk slipping out from beneath his bushy beard mesmerizes me as well as the peacefulness in his eyes.
He may not have it all, but right here, and right now, he believes he does.
Regretfully, the infinite number of sparks darting between us doesn’t improve my shelling skills. They’re still a disaster. It’s a rough estimate, but at a guess, I’d say there are more peas on the floor than in the bowl.
When it dawns on me that they’re most likely JR’s supply for an entire year, I say, “Shall I’ll gather up the strays and wash them?”
Not giving him the chance to answer, I slip off his lap and commence hunting the balls of goodness I suspect JR grew himself. There isn’t much to pursue during our slippery treks to the toilet, so I take in a tiny greenhouse with more interest than I generally would. Although the roof is covered with snow, the hessian wrapped around the soil means the plants inside are none the wiser to the icy conditions surrounding them.
“Have you ever tried peapod soup?”
When I tilt back my head to make sure JR can see my lips, partway there, my throat gets scratchy. My crawl around the dining room table has placed me in direct symmetry with JR’s crotch, and I’m not the only one noticing. He’s hard, and despite my brain telling me it has nothing to do with me sitting on his lap, my insides cheer like the deer meat he’s about to eat is filet mignon.
When my perverted gaze gets busted, I snap my eyes away before blubbering out, “It isn’t actually factual. You need as many peas as you do pods, but—” A silent scream rips through my internal organs when something crawls over my hand. It isn’t lightweight like an ant wanting to roll a pea home to its family. It’s decent in size, has a heap of legs, and feels as hairy as JR’s chest.
With my breathing irregular and my body frozen with fear, I slowly force my eyes to my hand. Karma for having irrational thoughts about a man so soon after ending my engagement is served without prejudice when I notice a big hairy spider on my hand. It’s a wolf-spider, and although I know they’re harmless, I scream bloody murder, flick it off my hand, then attempt to leap to my feet.
I say ‘attempt’ as my head smashes into the thick wooden tabletop long before my feet return to the ground. The collision almost knocks me out, but before I can collapse into a sobbing heap, JR scoops me into his arms, then sprints for the bathroom.
He’s fast in general, but his brutal speed has me convinced he isn’t a fan of spiders either. Not only does he lock the bathroom door with the spider on the other side, but he also stuffs a ‘towel’ under the airy crack, so we won’t have any more unwanted visitors.
“Not a fan of spiders?” I murmur with a giggle that JR cuts off with a vicious stink eye. It doesn’t have any heat to it. His eyes are too filled with worry to let anger in.
After depositing my backside onto the wooden structure we brushed our teeth at this morning, JR moves to a shelf at our right to gather up supplies. I always carry a toothbrush and a tube of minty paste in my medical bag. I’ve been caught out by double shifts too many times. Although it should have felt awkward sharing my toothbrush with JR, it didn’t. He had one, but it was just so worn down there were barely any bristles left on it. Besides, I’m eating the food he rationed to get him through the winter. Sharing is very much the way of life out here.