Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
When are you going to find yourself a good girl, is the mantra that my family has on repeat whenever I go home. Gabe gets it too. They’re hoping we’ll both go Greek, but if not, they have a long list of important attributes I’ve chosen to ignore most of my life. Their idea of a good girl is a girl who hasn’t slept around. A girl from a good family. A girl who can roll perfectly small stuffed vine leaves and whip up trays of sweet baklava at a moment’s notice. A woman who’ll understand all the craziness that comes with being part of a huge family.
I don’t know if Allie is any of those things, but I’d like to find out.
She spins the bottle, and it whirls around on the low coffee table, seeking its target. I’m not bothered if it lands on me first. I have nothing to hide. There’s never any point concealing your true self from others. That kind of deception only comes back to bite you in the ass later down the line when you’re too tired to keep the mask in place. I am what I am. What you see is what you get with me. If that’s not good enough, well, I don’t give a fuck. Walk on by. There are plenty of other fish in the sea.
The bottle lands on Tom. I still haven’t worked the man out. He hasn’t spoken a whole lot since we arrived but that’s not a bad thing. I appreciate guys who hold their cards close to their chests. He’s not moody and his expression is open. I just get the feeling he’s quieter than some in the group.
“Trust me to get the first question,” he says.
“Fate lands where it lands,” I say.
“Okay.” Allie seems nervous as she breathes out a huff of air and smooths her hands over her thighs, thighs that I’ve imagined wrapped around my face more than once. Damn, she has nice legs. Curvy and toned but soft looking too. She places her phone on the table, set to record. “How about this one? What’s the most appreciative thing anyone has ever said about your size?”
Tom leans back on the sofa and rubs his face. “I don’t know how you guys talk about this stuff without getting embarrassed,” he admits.
“Sex is part of life, dude,” Jimmy says. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Shifting in his seat, Tom clears his throat. “My last girlfriend said she loved the way it made her feel completely full. Like nothing else would ever complete her in the same way.”
Allie stares at Tom, and I watch her pupils dilate, darkening her pretty brown irises. Mmmm…interesting. She likes that idea. Being filled and stretched.
“Great. Thanks for that, Tom.” Reaching forward, she spins the bottle again with a stronger sense of purpose, like she’s trying to regain some control of the situation or her own reactions.
The narrow bottle neck lands on Gabe.
“Yes, cuz.” I clap him on the back hard.
“What’s the question?” he asks.
“What’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said about your size?” Allie asks.
Gabe’s eyes rise to the left as he thinks of an answer. He rubs his jaw, the part of his face that reminds me so much of his father and my father. “It’s not so much about my size, but my first girlfriend used to complain that my dick would wake her up in the morning. I used to climb in through her window and sleep in her single bed. I guess my morning wood was too much for her in such a tiny space.”
There’s a ripple of laughter as we all imagine the picture he’s painted so clearly.
“Time to spin again,” Jimmy says, his knee bouncing like he’s desperate to run.
“Okay. Who’s it going to land on this time?” The nervous anticipation Allie had at the start of the game has been replaced with something more playful. The bottle wobbles on an awkward spin, finally landing on me.
I rub my hands together and the callouses, built up from years of grafting, rasp together. Allie’s eyes meet mine and a jolt of electricity seems to pulse between us. “What sexual position feels best?”
I hold her gaze, fascinated that she’s chosen this question to ask me. I push my tongue between my lips, moistening them as I think through what to say. Usually, I don’t think before I speak, but with Allie, I get the feeling that words mean more than actions, and I want to make this answer count. I’ll learn a lot about her depending on what I say.
“I guess it depends who’s involved.” I shift forward in my seat until my ass is on the edge of the cushion, wanting to get closer to her and hating the table in between us.
“What do you mean?”