Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
But I don’t have to. I know he’s still there.
I don’t allow myself to think. I don’t want to recall what happened, what we did to each other—with each other—last night. I barely make it to the toilet on time. The relief I feel from taking the longest pee in the history of pees does nothing to settle my already upset stomach. My hands shake and my head is spinning.
I slept with Noah Wilson.
I don’t know why. I don’t know how. Well, the how is self-explanatory … and also explains the rug burns on my knees. I put my head in my hands and try to think back. What happened last night?
Do I want to remember what happened? I stand and turn on the shower. I went on a date, a date Jenny set up. A date that went horribly wrong. And then I went to that trashy bar and Noah took me home, and … oh god. I recall the rain and sitting on the couch with Noah. I remember his lips pressing into mine, then it’s black from there. I get into the shower, and images of flesh and lust flash before me.
I can still feel him between my legs, and I know he must have a huge cock or we did it many times. Hell—probably both. And I don’t have carpet in my room to get the rug burn on my knees.
I’m alone in the shower yet I’m embarrassed. What the hell was I thinking?
Noah. Fucking. Wilson.
If I was to hook up with anyone in the world, why did it have to be him? I shake my head. No one can know about this. I turn my face up into the water. No one has to, actually.
My heart stops racing. Noah won’t tell Colin he slept with his little sister. He might not give a shit about his reputation, but he wouldn’t ruin their friendship. And I won’t tell anyone. As far as I’m concerned, Noah took me home, I went into my room, closed the door, and slept through the night in my own bed—alone—while Noah snoozed on the couch.
They don’t even have to know he stayed. He could have dropped me off at home and left.
Yes, that’s a better lie. He dropped me off, I went to bed, and that’s that.
I go about washing myself, trying not to panic. It was one night. One time. It meant nothing, though I probably won’t be able to look Noah in the eye anytime soon.
As stupid as it sounds, I have a little ball of dread that I sucked in bed. I’m no virgin, but it’s been a while. Though, if Noah was as drunk as me, maybe he has no idea.
Oh! Maybe I can get dressed and tell him nothing happened! Yes, I’ll give it a try. Now to convince myself nothing happened … yeah right. March 11th will be tainted forever as the night I had sex with Noah Wilson.
“Stop,” I say out loud. I’m an adult. I can sleep with who I want, when I want. I have every right to do this.
So why do I feel so guilty?
I get out of the shower, towel off, and put on my bathrobe. I tip-toe into my room and close my eyes. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to see those rippling muscles and tattoos.
I don’t want to feel attracted to him.
Because I am. And I have been for a while … just like I’ve wondered about him. Of course I’ve thought about Noah as more than my brother’s friend. More than once. More than twice, if I’m being honest. It’s like someone putting a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries in front of you and not thinking about eating one. Wondering how fast the chocolate will melt in your mouth. Wanting to know how sweet and juicy the strawberry is, how good it will feel as it pushes past your lips and hits your tongue.
He’s not be the ideal hookup, but he’s attractive and he knows it, and I always assumed he knows his way around a woman’s body. And, of course, I had a chance to see just how good he is and I can’t remember a fucking thing.
I let out a breath and flick my eyes to the bed. Noah is still sleeping. He’s on his back and is naked, with the blanket barely covering his junk, which is disappointing. I hoped to check out the equipment used to rail me last night. He has one arm above his head, and the other is wrapped around Sasha, who’s snuggled up with her head on his chest.
Even I have to admit that’s adorable. Vader has taken over my spot, sprawled out and comfy. Waking up to this—a hot guy cuddled in my bed with my dogs—is something I can get used to.