Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I felt light as a feather in his arms. Tate carried me to shore, and I reached for my dress, quickly slipping it over my head with my back facing him, while balanced on one leg. The sting felt worse now. Adrenaline coursed through me as my mind jumped to the worst-case scenario.
Then I remembered something. “I think you need to pee on it,” I told him.
His mouth fell open. “Say what?”
“Pee on my leg, where the jellyfish stung me. I saw somewhere that the pee can help deactivate it.”
He blinked and repeated, “What?”
“Please? I’m really scared.”
“We need to go back to the main building,” he said.
“We’re too far. What if this kills me in the meantime? I think you need to pee on it now.” I pointed to the spot. “It’s this area right here, just above my ankle. Urine is a natural sterilizer.”
“Shit.” He exhaled. “All right…uh…”
Tate slipped his massive dick out of his boxer briefs. After a fleeting look that I knew might haunt me for decades, I turned away so as not to make him uncomfortable as he aimed at my ankle. The next thing I knew, I felt the warmth of his urine on my leg. I tried not to look back at it, instead focusing on the feel of the liquid, imagining that it was thwarting any potential for disaster.
When he finished, I opened my eyes to find Tate tucking himself back into his boxers. “How does it feel now?” he asked.
“The same. Just colder now that it’s not being doused in warm pee.”
Tate reached for his phone and scrolled. “Okay. It says here that urinating on a jellyfish sting is a myth.” He looked over at me. “What made you think that was a good idea?”
“I saw it on Friends. Chandler peed on Monica after she got stung by a jellyfish, and she felt better after.”
“Friends?” He narrowed his eyes. “And you take that as science?”
“I thought there was truth to it.” I threw up my hands. “I swear I heard the same thing somewhere else. I just can’t remember where.”
He returned his gaze to his phone. “This medical article from a trusted source says saltwater is the best thing for it. We probably should’ve just stayed in the ocean.”
“So I can get stung again?” I countered. “No, thank you! I’m done with that water for the rest of the trip.”
“Let me look at it.” He sat next to me on the sand, turning on his phone flashlight and aiming it at my leg. “It says to remove the tentacles. But I don’t see anything. Next step is to keep rinsing with saltwater.” He stood and offered me his hand. “Come with me down to the shore.”
We sat on the sand at the water line. Tate spent the next several minutes cupping saltwater in his hands and pouring it repeatedly on my stung leg.
As the minutes went by, I began to feel better and more confident that I wasn’t heading toward impending death.
“I think it feels better,” I announced.
“Yeah?” His worried expression lessened.
I nodded.
He placed his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry that happened to you, beautiful.”
“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “Thank you for peeing on me anyway.”
“Anytime.”
“Really?” I laughed.
“No.”
I winked. “At least now I can say I got some action on this trip. I mean, how much kinkier does it get than a hot man peeing on you?”
He chuckled. “Whipping out my dick and urinating on you was not on my bingo card tonight.”
After a half hour, my leg felt exponentially better, so we went for a stroll along the beach.
Tate took my hand in his, threading his fingers through mine. “Is this okay?”
“Of course.”
It felt good to hold his hand. For the past two days, I’d been angling for any sort of contact, and this simple act sent shivers through my body.
Hand in hand, we walked silently along the shore. The waves crashed under the dark night sky. I tried to just enjoy the moment, but the idea that this would all be ending soon continued to put a damper on my mood.
“Are you gonna regret not sleeping with me?” I asked.
“I might,” he answered. “I’ll probably always wonder. But it would only make things harder if we did.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, proud of myself for resisting the chance at an innuendo.
He stopped and faced me. “I have never had more fun in my life than these past two days. And that’s no exaggeration.”
“I feel the same, but considering you’ve lived a lot longer than me, that’s a huge compliment.”
He laughed. “Blair...” he whispered.
“You’ve been saying my name a lot since you discovered it.”
“I’m just so happy you told me.”
“Well, I certainly don’t tire of hearing you say my name, Tate.”
“Blair,” he murmured again. “I want to kiss you so fucking badly.”
Rather than wait for him to determine that was a bad idea, I reached forward on my toes, took his face in my hands, and did what he’d done to me earlier.