Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
But mine was momentary regret, or regret that it happened this way.
It wasn’t regret about the whole thing. I don’t regret the kiss, the closeness, just the unavoidable fact that Lola would freak out if she knew the truth.
Doesn’t that mean I should regret the kiss then?
Once I’m certain they’re gone, I walk into the warehouse, darker with the main doors closed. Sunlight filters in through high windows, giving the place a dreary feel as I collect my things and head for the side exit.
Walking into the sun, I walk up the path that leads to the bus stop.
It’s the same path I walked up this morning, in the opposite direction.
It’s difficult to believe it’s only been a few hours since I approached the warehouse, no clue Felix wanted me in any way, under the impression Miss Kansas was going to be posing in there, not me.
But he chose me.
As I wait for the bus, I remind myself of my cover story.
I’ve been scouting locations. I finished early, and Felix wasn’t there, so I went home.
Even the idea of needing a cover story feels awful, but here I am.
I’ve got Felix’s taste on my lips, and my ass is tingling from where he grabbed me, massaging me so carnally, I thought. I knew I would have my first orgasm if he just kept going.
I bite down, wishing Lola had arrived just a little later, giving us long enough to explore each other fully.
But in a way, she saved me from having to tell the truth.
And from having to break her heart.
I’m in my room, trying to read.
Or maybe trying is stretching it a little.
I’m sitting up in bed, a photography memoir open in my hands, the library book’s pages worn and folded over in places.
But I’m not trying, not really, rather just staring at it and waiting for something to happen.
It’s been three hours since I left the warehouse, just over that since the kiss.
As pathetic as it is, I wince every time I take a sip of water, as though it’s going to push his taste away.
Whenever I adjust my position, I feel my panties, the same ones I wore earlier. I can feel the stickiness there. I should change them, but I want to remember what it felt like.
Being so wanted. By him.
“All right.”
With a huff, I climb to my feet, leaving the book on the bed.
This is getting ridiculous.
I go to my drawers, grab some fresh underwear, and then take a clean towel from the closet. Lastly, I grab my PJs, figuring I’ll change into them after the shower.
The thought of getting clean and wiping the day away…it doesn’t exactly leave me thrilled.
Surely that’s a bad sign.
I’d rather be sweaty and feel a little cruddy than wash away the scent, the feel, the memory of Felix.
I shiver when I think about him sliding his hands down to my ass, remembering the way he grabbed me like he never wanted to let go.
Like he really was starving for me, as achingly as I am for him.
It’s like he had a crush on me equal to mine.
I know that can’t be the case. His crush can never be the same as mine since it started when I was younger. But right then, at that moment, I was sure I felt the same passion, returned in the urgency of his kiss.
Walking into the bathroom, I turn the shower on, blasting the pressure as high as it’ll go.
The room fills with steam, and I strip naked, standing in front of the mirror as it clouds more and more of me.
Looking at my reflection, something unusual happens. Something new and wonderful and, for long seconds. I forget about all the negative stuff I usually dwell in.
I think about my own body and say, Wow, she looks pretty good.
Sometimes these thoughts will come to me, little nuggets of self-esteem, but this is so much stronger than I’ve felt before.
I’ve always had to wonder if a man would be attracted to me since I’ve never pursued romance…and romance has definitely never pursued me.
But now I know at least one man is attracted to me.
And he just so happens to be the only one I want.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Felix
I stand in my office the next day, looking down over the warehouse. My third coffee of the morning is in my hand, the steam rising up, doing nothing to get rid of this sleepless feeling.
Last night, she was all I could think about, my Faye, the photo shoot that was interrupted.
The warehouse doors are thrown open, showing the rain-streaked street. It patters down lightly, the summer downfall causing a rainbow to kiss the horizon. I can just about see the bottom of it, the colors clashing, and then my gaze is drawn to Faye.
She walks in from the rain, shaking her umbrella, wearing a buttoned-up shirt and chinos. It’s like she thinks she can hide the beauty of her body from me, but I’ve got the photos of her in her underwear.