Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Uh, yeah. Did something happen?”
My fingers tighten around the cord, twisting and untwisting it, the plastic biting into my skin. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you sound flustered,” Nova says. “And you’re being cagey. And you never sleep in on Saturdays, and—”
“I didn’t sleep in,” I say, the words tumbling out too fast. “I… didn’t sleep.”
Nova sucks in a breath, and I can practically hear her eyes going wide through the phone. “Wait, what? You almost did it? Like… clothes came off? Tongues were involved? There was heavy petting?”
“Oh my god, stop,” I mutter, pulling the sweatshirt tighter around me. “Nothing happened.”
But DAMN DID I WANT IT TO.
It would have been so easy, wouldn’t it? Pressing my ass into his junk until he couldn’t stand it? Maybe move his hand so it was on my boobs…
How lovely is that thought?
I swallow, staring at my ceiling, last night’s fantasies flashing through my mind in a dizzying loop. Turner’s hands on my hips, cuddling me.
“Okay, I’m going to need details,” Nova says, voice sharper now. “You’re being too vague and it’s driving me nuts.”
Sorry. “There are no details. Not real ones anyway.”
“What does that mean?” Nova asks, confused.
“It means I’m living with a guy I can’t stop thinking about naked, okay?” I groan, pressing my palms to my face. “I keep imagining him… touching me. Or me touching him. It’s like my brain is short-circuiting and I can’t even look at him without picturing—”
“His dick,” Nova supplies, way too chipper.
I want to die. “Jesus Christ, Nova.”
“Listen,” she says, voice conspiratorial. “Does he know?”
“No!” I pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, trying to smother myself. “God, no. And that’s the problem. I’m living in this house, pretending to be normal while my brain is stuck in a permanent loop of ‘what-if’ scenarios that involve me and Turner and very few clothes.”
“Oof.” Nova whistles. “That is rough, babe.”
“Yeah.” I flop back against my pillows, the tension coiling in my gut. “And now I have to go out there and pretend like nothing is wrong. Like I don’t want to throw him against a wall and climb him like a tree.”
Nova laughs. “Good luck with that.”
“You are not helpful! We live together. I can’t avoid him. I stare straight at his door when I walk out of mine. What if these… thoughts ruin everything?”
Nova snorts. “You’re overthinking it, Poppy. You haven’t done anything.”
“Exactly,” I mutter, throwing an arm over my eyes. “But in my head? Oh, I’ve done everything. I mean, I’m talking rated R, triple X, somebody-call-the-exorcist filthy.”
“What kind of filthy?” Nova demands, her tone turning conspiratorial. “Like… straddle-him-on-the-couch filthy? Or tie-him-to-the-bed-and-make-him-beg filthy?”
I press my palms to my cheeks, feeling them burn. “All of it. Every possible filthy scenario. I mean, I’m picturing him grabbing my hair and making me look up at him while he tells me what to do, and it’s like… I can’t even make eye contact with him anymore without picturing his face when he comes.”
Nova gasps dramatically. “You dirty little slut.”
“I know!” I groan. “And he’s just so… ugh. His hands, Nova. His hands are like… the size of dinner plates. And I just keep imagining them on my ass. Or pinning my wrists above my head. Or sliding down my—”
“Okay, I need you to stop before I combust. You’re giving me secondhand horniness,” Nova says. “And you haven’t done anything? Not even a little ass grab?”
“Nope,” I say miserably. “And it’s getting weird. I’m acting like a total perv, just sitting here marinating in my own filthy thoughts while he’s probably out there, like, eating cereal and being oblivious.”
“Oh, honey.” Nova sighs. “You’re not a perv. You’re a girl with a big, fat crush and a dirty mind. Welcome to the human race.”
“It’s more than a crush,” I say, biting my lip. “It’s… it’s like I look at him and my ovaries do a tap dance. And then my brain just goes straight to ‘how fast can I get my panties off and my legs around his head?’”
Nova barks out a laugh. “Oh my god, Poppy. You are unhinged. I love it.”
“I hate it,” I mutter, rolling onto my side. “I mean, what if I slip up and say something inappropriate? What if he catches me staring at his hands and just knows I’ve been thinking about them cupping my boobs while he whispers filthy things in my ear?”
“Uh, maybe he’ll think it’s hot?” Nova says. “Like, men are usually not that subtle. He’s either clueless or he’s picturing you naked too.”
“Great,” I mutter. “So now I get to go out there and pretend like I haven’t mentally ridden his face ten different ways.”
“You could always just ride it for real,” Nova says casually. “Put yourself out of your misery.”
I groan, shoving my face into the pillow. “Why am I like this?”