Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
CHAPTER
24
Chapter 4—Hannah’s Novel
Jocelyn pulled up to the address. She stared at the building, then back down at the numbers, wiping her sweaty palms against her skirt. The place wasn’t quite what she expected. Instead of somewhere nice, or maybe even Mr. Sawyer’s house, it was a motel that looked like it had gone out of business. Except the red neon Vacancy sign blinked steadily, so—it was still open? She fidgeted, looking around the bumpy parking lot self-consciously. No sign of Mr. Sawyer.
Eventually, his car pulled in. She looked at her ratty bicycle, parked next to her, wishing her mother’s car hadn’t died this morning. Jocelyn stood just outside the small office, trying to look relaxed and calm, when she was anything but. The sight of him sent excitement through her. He was a good-looking man—older, smarter, more worldly than she’d ever be. And yet he was here to meet her.
“Hi!” she called, waving to him. But then she quickly put her hand down, feeling like an idiot for greeting him like such a teenager.
“What are you doing?” He approached quickly, took her elbow and yanked her around the side of the motel. “You can’t be seen just standing out here like that. They’ll assume you’re turning tricks.”
“What?” She looked up, eyes wide. “Turning what?”
“They’ll assume you’re a whore. Look at you, how you’re dressed.” He glared down at her, anger in his voice.
Jocelyn stole a glance down at her short skirt, the V-neck blouse she’d stolen from her mother’s closet. She was trying to look nice for Mr. Sawyer, thought he’d like it. It was . . . mature, she’d thought. Maybe she’d judged wrong, though.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just wanted to look nice for you.”
The admission sat between them, crackling with tension.
Eventually, he sighed. “Go hide that bicycle in the woods at the back of the parking lot. Stay there for a while. Come back in half an hour, after it gets dark. We can’t be seen going in together. Room 212. I’ll leave the door open.”
Jocelyn stared at him, slack-jawed. Hide in the woods? Surely he was joking. But the way his eyes narrowed, he was serious as could be. She pressed her lips together, nodded, and started the long walk across the cracked pavement. The brush at the edge of the woods was damp, and within minutes, her shoes were soaked through. It wasn’t a cold day, but she shivered nonetheless, finding a stump to sit on as the world grew dark around her.
Jocelyn didn’t like the dark. Bad things could happen to you in the dark, especially out here. A twig snapped somewhere beyond her, and she turned quickly, staring out into the darkness.
It must nearly be time. Stupidly, she’d forgotten to check her watch when the sun went down—not that she could see it now, anyway. She waited another five, ten minutes, then got to her feet and hurried back toward the motel. Hopefully, it wasn’t too soon. She didn’t want to give him yet another reason to be angry.
But when she cracked open the door to 212 and stepped in, he didn’t tell her to leave. No, he sat at the desk against the wall in the corner of the room. She shut the door behind her quietly and took a few steps in, but froze when she saw what he was wearing.
His underwear. White boxer briefs. Heat crept up her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but stare. The underwear left little to the imagination. And he was fit. A man, definitely not a boy.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she took in the room—dimly lit, a bed, Mr. Sawyer nearly naked. She was nervous, but she wasn’t scared exactly, more anxious and maybe excited. She licked her lips, curious to see what came next.
“Remove your clothing. Everything but your bra and panties. Then kneel here.” He pointed to a spot near his feet.
She hesitated only a moment, then hastily peeled off the blouse, shimmied out of the skirt, pulled down the tights. The cheap motel carpet felt rough beneath her knees, but she knelt, breathless, awaiting his next command.
“Put your hands together like you’re saying your prayers. Bow your head.”
Trembling now, she did as she was told. Her skin tingled with anticipation. Was he going to touch her? Kiss her? Mr. Sawyer shifted in his chair, and she couldn’t help it—she snuck a peek up. A bulge appeared beneath his boxer briefs. A big bulge, she thought, taking a shaky breath. It fascinated her, maybe frightened her some, too.
She huddled there, hot despite the fact that the room was cold and she had no clothes on. She shivered with eagerness as she waited. What would come next? Would he want to have sex? She was a virgin, but most of the girls her age weren’t anymore. Ivy had already had sex with two different boys. Whatever Mr. Sawyer wanted to do, she would do it. Jocelyn wanted to make him happy, after all. Because she liked him, thought he was handsome and fascinating, but also because he could change things for her—make her life better, take her away from this shitty town.