The air between us is heavy with tension and every breath I take is shallow—I'm almost afraid to draw too much of his scent into my lungs. I don’t know why I feel almost in physical pain being this close to Ted. Or why it’s hard to breathe. I desperately want something, but I don’t know what.
My inner muscles clench around emptiness that leaves me feeling hollow and frenzied.
The car door slams behind me as I flee his truck. I don’t turn around, but I can tell he doesn’t follow. I swallow mouthfuls of the night air but still can’t draw a full breath.
What is happening? My life is off the rails, and I don’t know how it happened or how to get it under control again.
I am capable.
I am enough.
I don’t need a man.
Though my brain counters that I may want one. One big, beefy, scowly, chivalrous bear of a man.
And that doesn’t settle well at all.
Chapter18
A Real Wet Dream
GOLDIE
That night, I fall asleep in my bed and wake up in the same place. Glory Hallelujah!
Though I spend the night tumbling through dreams of stormy ocean eyes and lips I want to explore. I cling to broad shoulders and let a bearded face trail blazing hot kisses down my neck until I’m a puddle of need.
When I wake, I’m horny as hell and grumpy as sin.
Thankfully, I have the day off from work, so I don’t have to worry about crazed men proposing to me. Rap pulled me into her office when I went back in after the fight and suggested I take a couple days off, or maybe the week.
I begged her to let me work my normal hours. I need the money and promised to find a way to thwart the fan club of asshats. Rap seemed skeptical but didn’t fight me.
I have no idea how I’ll actually accomplish that, but I have other things to focus on right now.
The day is spent scrubbing the grime laden windows that should in all reality be replaced, and eating porridge that makes my gut churn.
My doctor’s visit is not only unhelpful, it makes me more frustrated than when I went in. If I am sleepwalking the only things I can do is try to go to sleep at the same time every night and try to limit stress.
Limit stress?
I am living off a barrel of old oats because I’m pouring every last penny into getting my aunt’s old house back into livable shape. I’m breaking my back and my nails cleaning the grime out of the baseboards to the ceiling corners of a rundown mansion. Every day I’m melting to death in a hot house I can’t afford to get air conditioning for. I’m getting unexpected proposals, causing fights, and my neighbor thinks I’m a nosey slut trying to sleep with his brothers though he’s the one haunting my dreams.
I am officially exhausted. Especially because I have to keep from rubbernecking to see what my maybe-not-so-terrible neighbor is up to. His truck is gone, and I don’t see him all day. I tell myself I don’t care, but I only get hornier, sweatier, and angrier.
At the end of the day, I am mindful as I prepare to get into bed.
Ido notplan on ending up in Ted’s house again.
Popping in my earbuds, I queue up not one but two sleep meditations while huffing lavender oil until I’m the most relaxed person on the face of the earth.
Everyone wishes they were as relaxed as me.
As I drift into dreamland, my chill mode morphs into something with heat and tension. Strong hands roam my body, as a pair of serious lips slide up my neck, causing shivers to rack my body and my hips to buck with need.
I'm dreaming again of intense cerulean eyes that come with a scowl I can’t get off my mind.
My fingers run through soft, thick hair I can grab onto as insistent, hungry lips kiss a trail down south, licking and nipping at my sensitive skin. One of those calloused hands travels down my body, tracing my hip before sliding between my legs, cupping my center. I bite back a moan even as my hips jerk up into his touch.
