Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I’ve never been in a situation where I felt the urge to go after a woman, so this is all new to me. I do know that as an abuse survivor she wouldn’t appreciate the show of force, and it would set us back even more than Bunny’s little stunt could ever think of doing. I pull her name up on the contact list on my phone and press send again for the fifth time this evening. It goes straight to voicemail, just like it did the last three times I’ve called.
I know she’s safe. If she left Doc’s house, he would’ve called. The fact that she’s mad enough to ignore me makes me mad and brings a small smile to my face at the same time. Anger is not the emotion I was hoping for when I got home today, but it is an emotion. Her being able to get mad at me means she feels something about me, and that beats the indifference she showed in the kitchen her very first morning here.
Unable to leave well enough alone, I scoop my bike keys off of my dresser and head out. It’s been a few hours, and that’s about as long as I can take without losing my mind. Even if I go over there and she yells at me, at least I get to hear her voice and see her beautiful face.
***
You never realize how much you miss the freedom of a bike until you have to go a long period of time without one. Two weeks without riding a motorcycle may seem like nothing to any other person, but for a man who doesn’t feel free without it, it’s a lifetime.
The ten-minute ride to Doc’s house wasn’t nearly enough, merely a tease of an experience. Hearing the sound of the motorcycle from a distance, I’m not surprised to be met on the front porch by Rose. She waits, with arms crossed over her chest like a mother hen, until I kill the engine and prop the machine up on the kickstand before she speaks.
“She’s not very happy with you.”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.” I raise my voice before I even think about who I’m talking to. “Can you send her out here, please?”
She huffs at me but turns and heads back into the house. I kick at the rocks near the last step of the porch. It’s completely dark outside, and the only light is coming from the tiny bulb near the front door until Emmalyn opens the front door and steps out on the porch.
She’s so beautiful the sight of her makes my heart nearly pound out of my chest.
“Em.”
She looks over my head, past me into the blackness of the night. “I only came out here because I knew you’d never leave me alone if I didn’t.”
She doesn’t offer anything else. She doesn’t take another step near me, so following her lead I stay on the ground and give her the space she needs on the porch.
Before I can beg forgiveness from a wrong I didn’t even commit, she breaks the tense silence between us. “Have you fucked all of the girls at the clubhouse?”
I laugh because her idea of what I do there is ludicrous. She glares at me, and my laugh catches in my throat. “I haven’t fucked any of the girls at the club.”
I shouldn’t have to explain my past to her. I’ve told her that before, but that was before I’d spent countless hours the last couple of weeks texting and talking to her. I felt like we were growing closer, and I honestly thought I’d be lucky enough to hold her while she slept tonight; Lord knows I’ve dreamed about it enough.
Knowing I shouldn’t have to explain myself and feeling the need to are different things. My pride has already gotten in the way once where she’s concerned, and I’ll be damned if I lose whatever this is that’s building between us because I don’t want to have an awkward conversation with a woman.
“There are a couple of girls at the club that have,” I motion to my genitals, suddenly feeling uneasy about saying the words out loud. “Blowjobs,” I spit out. “A couple of them have given me blowjobs.”
She doesn’t seem surprised by the information.
“I haven’t had sex with any of them, Emmalyn,” I tell her, feeling the need to clarify the fact again.
“Last I checked, getting naked wasn’t a requirement for a blow job. But what the fuck do I know? Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.” I cringe because no matter how serious this conversation is, the last thing I want in my head are images of Emmalyn sucking anybody else’s cock.
Realization hits. This is why she’s pissed. I have no control over Bunny, short of throwing her out on her ass. Every time she sees one of the club girls, she pictures them with me. Even without confirmation that I’ve messed around with them, all she can think when she sees one of them is them sucking me off.