Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
My voice trembled. “Keep going.”
I reached for my clit, circling my fingers around the tender flesh as Wes moved in and out of me.
He was all the way inside now, moving a bit faster, with more ease.
It was a strange sensation, but I grew more aroused by the second. I was glad my first anal-sex experience was with him, even if his girth was a bit much to take.
“I need to slow down or I’m gonna come,” he said. “You’re so tight, and it feels too damn good.”
Rather than supporting that, I pushed my ass back against him.
“Fuck,” he warned. “Don’t do that.”
I giggled under my breath.
When he resumed fucking me, I tightened my muscles around him.
“Shit.” He gripped my side with his right hand and squeezed hard, as if that somehow might help him stave off an orgasm.
When my muscles tightened around him in climax, Wes let go, groaning as he filled me with his hot load. Though it hurt a little at first, this had turned into the most erotic experience of my life.
“Forget what I said about truth or dare.” He slowly pulled out and kissed up my back. “It’s my favorite game now.”
***
The next morning, my father called and gave us the all-clear to leave the house.
I told Wes I wanted to go to this farmer’s market I’d heard about. It was only open on Saturday mornings, so I wanted to take advantage. We skipped breakfast and grabbed coffee on the way, figuring we’d taste test some things at the market. Among the items I hoped to score: fresh sourdough bread, wildflower honey, and these chocolate-covered strawberries I’d heard were amazing.
Despite last night’s hot sex, I found myself ruminating again about Wes’s change in attitude. It seemed to be back this morning, but I also wondered if I was reading into things too much.
But as we strolled the market, I couldn’t shake it. We stood at a table of farm-fresh eggs, hatched from local pasture-raised chickens, and I turned to him. “What’s really going on, Wes?” I swallowed. “Are you sure you’re not having doubts about us?”
He let out a long breath. “I’ve always been up front about the doubts I have, Juliette. Not about you, but about our ability to be together long term—for obvious reasons.”
“Why were you okay with us a few days ago, but suddenly turned weird? It’s like a switch flipped.”
He looked down at his feet. “I might’ve been in a weird mood lately, but that doesn’t mean you have to assign meaning to it.”
I raised my voice. “But your mood changed after you spoke to my father. So that tells me it’s not random. Did he say something you’re not telling me?”
He shook his head. “No, Juliette.”
My gut told me he was lying. I placed my hands on my hips. “You know what, if you’re not going to be honest with me, I don’t even want to be around you right now.”
Wes crossed his arms. “Well, I’m sorry, but you don’t have a choice.”
“Give me some space,” I huffed.
I stormed over to one of the other tables. He followed, but kept his distance.
A few minutes later, I’d just reached over to grab a bottle of honey when it felt like a truck hit me. Except it wasn’t a truck—it was Wes.
CHAPTER 20
* * *
Juliette
Someone was screaming.
I blinked, dazed, before finally realizing it was me. Wes was on the ground, bleeding, blood pooling beneath his torso. I dropped to my knees and cradled his head in my arms. “Wes… Wes!”
His eyes fluttered closed as people gathered around us.
“Someone call 9-1-1!” I screamed. “Call 9-1-1!”
“I just did!” a man shouted. “They’re on their way.”
I slapped Wes’s face gently, trying to wake him. “Wes! Open your eyes! Open your eyes, Wes!” Chaos swirled around me—people running, someone screaming, a dog barking nonstop—but I couldn’t focus on any of it. I just kept shaking the man in my arms. “Please, Wes. Please wake up.”
Blood spread across the ground, seeping into my clothes. But his chest was still going up and down—barely, but enough. He’s breathing. On his own. My heart pounded as I rocked him back and forth, the world around us fading to a blur. A man knelt beside me. I think he said he was a med student. He pulled off his jacket, slipped it under Wes’s body, and applied pressure to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. Somewhere nearby, a second dog started barking. People moved around us, voices rising, footsteps pounding, but it all felt distant. Like I was underwater and everything was muffled. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
I have no idea how long it was before someone grabbed my arm. “Miss, we’re the paramedics, let us take over.” The guy who’d been holding pressure helped me to my feet and stood next to me, watching.