Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
This was a serious situation.
But did desire spark at the very idea?
Yeah, yeah, it did.
There was no rationalizing with the kind of desire I felt toward Perish.
“Fine.” I said it with a grumble, with a sigh. Like it was a major annoyance and inconvenience. So no one around knew that I was actually excited to be examined.
“Be quick,” Fallon demanded. “I want to know what the fuck is going on.”
With that, Perish finally moved out from behind me just to walk in front of me, expecting me to fall in line.
Everything about him seemed as genuinely frustrated as I was pretending to be. It should have put ice on my desire. It didn’t.
Perish took a turn toward the basement where the club kept changes of clothes of all kinds, and I followed him down.
The silence started to feel heavy, awkward.
But the second I reached the lower step, Perish turned.
And it wasn’t annoyance on his face.
It was something that had my chest doing that popping rock candy thing again.
Then his big hands were raising, pressing to each side of my face. Gentle. Yet somehow a little possessive at the same time.
“Don’t gotta lie to me,” he said.
“I’m not lying,” I assured him. “I’m really okay.”
He tilted my head up, angling my face around. His gaze scanned my face and neck, looking for damage I might have played down.
“It was over in like ten seconds,” I told him, my hand going to his wrist and giving him a squeeze. “I’m not that delicate.”
“Yes, you are,” he objected.
His hands slid down the sides of my neck, resting there for a second, then gliding down to my shoulders to gently push the straps of my romper off.
Without the straps, the thin material drifted downward until it pooled at my feet.
And I felt, oh, I felt everything.
The cool prick of the air washing over me. The goosebumps rising. The way my belly swam and my heart tripped over itself.
My gaze was fixated on Perish, though. So I saw the way he tensed, how deep his exhale was, how his pupils blew wide.
I was suddenly incredibly thankful that I wasn’t like some of my cousins, who were top-heavy and wore bras pretty much at all times.
The little extra padding in the chest of the romper made it so I didn’t need to have anything on underneath.
And Perish, yeah, Perish was appreciating the sudden near-nakedness.
His hands went to my hips, resting, then sinking in for a second in a way that felt possessive.
He was clearly fighting for control.
I knew the whole club was around.
But I still wanted him not to find it.
A second later, though, he exhaled hard and ran his hands over my midsection in a very medical kind of way, fingers poking in, looking for signs of pain.
“I’m okay,” I repeated.
I heard the thickness in my voice.
The way Perish’s eyes slid closed for a second made me think he heard it too.
But he kept rigid control over himself, poking and prodding until he was satisfied that I wasn’t going to die on him or something.
Then his hands fell to his sides, curled into fists, and he turned and walked away toward the storage cabinets to rummage around for a change of clothes.
I almost laughed when he came back with loose sweats and a comically oversized hoodie.
He set the hoodie on the edge of one of the bunk beds before lowering himself to his knees in front of me.
He ruched up one of the legs to slip it over my foot, then the other.
The material slid up, but before he could fully slip the waistband into place, his head leaned forward, his forehead hitting me just under my navel.
He exhaled hard, warm breath teasing over my skin.
My hand went out automatically, pressing to the back of his neck.
But it was only for a second.
Then he yanked the pants up, turned, and grabbed the top.
He wouldn’t even look directly at me as he pushed my head through and waited for me to slide my arms in.
“Come on. Fallon’s waiting,” he said, moving past me.
I tried to tamp down the disappointment, but it stuck with me the whole way back to the common room.
“She’s okay. Doesn’t even seem to be any bruising.”
That got nods and relaxed shoulders from my cousin and father.
“Should I, uh, not be here for this?” I asked.
Fallon glanced at Perish, waiting for his input.
“Think it might be best if she stays. Seems like she’s part of this, unfortunately.”
“Okay,” Fallon said, waving over toward one of the bar stools.
“Look like you need a drink,” my Uncle Pagan said, giving me a soft look from behind the bar.
“I wouldn’t turn one down,” I admitted.
I swiveled to watch him throw some concoction together, mostly so I wasn’t caught staring at Perish as everyone filed inside to hear whatever this meeting was about.