Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“Fred—”
“How can I not want you when I’ve been treated to months of hearing you get yourself off in that very fucking bed?”
What?
Wait.
Wait.
Waitwaitwaitwait.
What?
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to not burst in here and make all my dirty thoughts about you come to life?” He clenched his jaw. “Keeping my hands to myself has been the hardest, most painful thing I’ve ever done. And you think I don’t want you?” He laughed bitterly. “No, I want you, Delilah. I want you so badly that it’d be less painful to cross a desert with no shade and no water than to keep holding back.”
“Hold on!” I held up my hands and, through laboured breaths, said, “You’ve heard me masturbating?”
“That’s what you took from everything I just said?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
He stared at me, a darkness tinting his gaze. “Yes. This isn’t an original wall, and you’re not exactly the quietest.”
Kill me.
Right now.
My cheeks flamed.
No, shit, my whole face was on fire.
“So… So… Wh—what were you doing listening to me?” I sputtered. “Y—you should have told me! Pervert!”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been torturing me with your mystery orgasms for months, and that’s what you have to say for yourself?”
I opened my mouth to argue, then smacked my lips together and looked away.
That wasn’t the point here.
“Were you… You know.” I trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards his crotch.
“Touching myself while listening to you and thinking about you? Yes.”
“Every time?”
“Yes.”
I jerked, but I was already against the door, so I couldn’t go back any further and just whacked my head. “Ow.” I touched my hand to the tender spot I’d just hit and shot him a glare.
“Don’t look at me like that. You knew I was attracted to you. You made a huge song and dance out of it, remember?”
Yes.
Yes, I did remember the great groin-watch several months ago.
“And given the fit you just had, am I right to assume you were thinking about me while you were having your little self-care sessions?”
My mouth opened, but the only answer he needed was the heat that flushed through my entire body.
That’s right.
My face was no longer adequate to show my embarrassment. Even my toes were involved at this point.
I wasn’t going to take this from him, though.
“So, what?” I shot back. “What else was I supposed to do? You weren’t going to touch me, so excuse me for making do with my imagination! I’m not ashamed of it.”
His eyes darkened once more, and he clenched his jaw, making his cheek twitch.
“Women get horny, too! I’m horny! So, what!” I shouted, stomping my foot for good measure. “A fact you’d know, because you keep turning me down!”
“I just told you—” he shouted back, then stopped and took a deep breath. “No. We aren’t doing this.”
“I agree. So, give me what I want. Get the papers and let me sign them.”
He stared at me for the longest minute of my life.
I swallowed.
He drew in a deep breath, making both his chest and shoulders heave. His hands unclenched, and he brushed his hand over his forehead, all without looking away from me for a millisecond.
“All right. Fine.”
The moment the words left his mouth, two things happened.
My shoulders sagged.
And my heart?
She broke.
Shattered.
The tiny pieces of her scattered through my veins, spreading through my body, threading that bitter ache of desolation through every cell of my being.
“I’ll give you what you want,” Fred said, slowly walking towards me. He stopped just in front of me and gripped my chin, forcing my face upwards.
“Thank you,” I whispered as our eyes met.
“But I’m not giving you the fucking annulment papers.”
I swear, that was the very moment his tightly wound restraint snapped.
“Wha—”
His lips fell to mine, silencing me before I could finish. Answering me, too, because my question was going to be, “What do you mean?” and his actions were pretty bloody clear.
Still, I squeaked in surprise. He responded by pressing his body against mine, pinning me to the door, and cradling my head until his fingers were knotted in my hair. I gripped his shirt, feeling the soft cotton against my trembling fingers.
Oh.
He was kissing me.
Like he wanted me.
And this—this feeling of safety, of comfort, of being home, is what I was missing all along.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, breathing heavily. “Tell me you want this,” he murmured. “Tell me clearly. Because there’s no going back once I fuck you, Delilah. We’ll never be able to be friends again.”
My heart, already racing, thundered even louder against my ribs. “I don’t want to be friends, Fred.”
“What are you—”
I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his neck. “I want this. I want you.”
His hands, usually so steady and calm, trembled against my head as a strangled groan rumbled in his throat. “And you… You won’t regret this?”