Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
She grumbles under her breath as the others snigger.
What’s so funny?
“Can we listen to music?” I ask happily, my words sound a bit slow and weird.
“What station?”
“Any.”
The beat of a drum starts and then a guitar. I don’t know what this is but I want to dance to it.
“Please stop,” the man begs, placing his hand on my forehead and holding me down.
“Why?”
“Keep doing that and you’ll find out,” he breathes.
Giggling, I close my eyes again and yawn loudly. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“Language,” Laurie admonishes.
“Sus kesisine,” I bark back. “Shut up.”
The man beneath me starts laughing. “What language was that?”
“Turkish I think, maybe,” Izabella replies.
The man beneath me trails a finger along my jaw. “You speak Turkish?”
“Hayir,” I reply.
“She said no,” Laurie explains, laughing even harder now.
“You don’t speak Turkish but you’re speaking Turkish,” the man comments, still trailing his finger along my jaw.
“Ben hastayim. Beni yalniz birak.” “I’m sick. Leave me alone.”
“What did she say that time?” Izabella asks.
“I don’t know, I don’t speak Turkish. I only know what no is because she says it to me sometimes.”
“How does she speak Turkish?” the man asks, shuffling in his seat.
I put my hand on his face too like I did to Laurie. “Shhhh.”
He chuckles against my palm and kisses it gently before placing it back on my chest.
“Oooooooooooo,” I hum and flick his lower lip down with the tip of my finger.
He puts my hand back on my chest.
“Ooooooooooooo,” I hum again and try to put my finger up his nose.
Laurie starts laughing so hard it becomes silent. “I’m totally recording this just so you all know.”
“Ooooooooooooo,” I hum… again, and go for his lip again.
He bites my finger, holding it between his teeth. That hurts. My mouth opens as I try to pull my finger free.
“Ouch.”
He releases me, kisses the finger he just bit and places it back on my chest.
“Ooooooooo.” I try his ear.
“Will you stop?” he says around his body-shaking laughter. “I should never have come.”
“Yep, she’s going to be mortified when she sobers up,” Laurie answers, sounding way too happy.
“And yet you’re recording her anyway.”
“Duh? What else are friends for?”
“Not orgasms. Friends can’t give you those,” I point out because it’s a really important fact that needs to be said.
“Let’s not talk about orgasms in front of your boss and his mom, okay?” Laurie pats my arm.
I kick off my shoes and put my feet onto the leather seat.
“You’re no fun,” I grumble, pouting and relaxing on whoever is stroking my hair right now.
“COTTON CANDY ORGASMS AND YOUR LOCAL ALCOHOLIC!” Laurie yells and then sighs at herself. “Sorry, Mrs. Conti. I’m really trying not to.”
“You let it out, dear.” Izabella is such a nice lady.
“I’m going to keep you,” I say reaching for Izabella’s shoulder. “Forever.”
“Okay, sweet girl.”
I turn towards the man, smiling when he squirms beneath me and order, “Stop fidgeting.”
“You stop fidgeting,” he returns, placing his hand on my head again.
“That’s not me, it’s the car.”
He chuckles and strokes my jaw again, that feels so nice. “Try to sleep.”
“Mmm-kay.”
When he stops stroking me for whatever reason, I grab his hand and make it do the same motion on my cheek. He continues what he was doing, tickling my jaw, my ear, my hair, my throat, my chest. It burns in the nicest way.
I squirm, trying to relax but it feels so good I don’t want to relax.
“My eyes hurt,” I mumble.
“I know.”
“You really do sound like my boss.”
“I know.”
“You could have so much fun with this,” Laurie says. “I’d be asking her all kinds of questions about myself if she didn’t recognize me.”
“Don’t you dare,” Izabella tells the car, her tone firm. “You let her private thoughts be her own.”
“Just one little question,” Laurie begs.
“No, not one.”
The man shifts. I wish he’d stop doing that. “Is your boss nice?”
“Stop it right now or I’m pulling over.”
“My boss?” I ask around a yawn.
“Is he a good boss?”
“He pays for my bagels.”
“Stop it, Ezra.”
I hold on to a solid arm and hug it to my body as the car rocks my body back and forth every time it hastens and slows.
“Is he nice to you?” Laurie asks and I hear a slapping sound. “Ouch.”
I giggle and hold the arm tighter.
“Do you like him?” These words are whispered so quietly it tickles my eardrum.
“He’s amazing. I want to keep him too.”
The arm I’m squeezing squeezes me back.
“Are we at the bar yet? I need another drink.”
“Thank you so much for the ride and for helping me get her inside,” Laurie says. I can hear her through my bedroom door.
My eyes are sore.
I roll onto my side and keep them shut.
I don’t feel as groggy as I did but I do need sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.
“I’ll just be out here if you need me,” Laurie whispers through the door, tapping on it gently.