Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
I’ve never loved anyone but myself. I don’t even have a companion except for Bo. I barely have human friendships at all, and most of those I can’t trust. What if they tried to use me for their gain? I can’t chance it. Apart from my infrequent visits to the Insurgent headquarters, I don’t have physical contact with anyone. It’s for my own good, but I can’t think about it too long. It’s starting to get to me. My body is turning against me, and sometimes I ache for someone else’s touch. The loneliness is starting to claw at me, making me wonder if I’m only lying to myself about how I feel, but it’s a lie I know I have to make myself believe or I could fall. And I sure as hell don’t have anyone to help pick me up, so I have to make sure I don’t fall.
Loyalists are given special privileges such as clean, hot running water. So when a man looks like he’s bathed recently, I’m about ready to fall on my knees and unzip his pants for him. What’s wrong with me? Those are exactly the kind of guys I’m supposed to hate. But dammit, they look well fed, clean, free of diseases. Fuck. It’s only a matter of time before I’m going to have to somehow take one of them. I need to get it out of my system so I can focus on my work again. My body is betraying all that I’ve fought for, and it’s a problem.
Just one thick cock inside me and I’ll be back at work, better than ever. Right? Maybe those condoms aren’t bad. Maybe they work. What about the pull-out method I’ve heard about? I shake my head at myself and try to push all those thoughts away. Now is not the time.
When I get to the plaza, I approached my mark for the day. Up ahead I can see the cameraman and a boom mic guy, filming some nonsense. Facing the camera, I see Brad Chalmers and his perfect handsome face. Hopefully not handsome for long though. Just this is enough to piss me off. He’s one of the elite, and he’s got to go down on camera.
I blend in with the crowd of people headed to work. As I get closer I can see his ice-blue eyes and dark stubbled beard. He’s tall, broad, and looks like a beast. My legs begin to tense and I have to hold them close together as I look him up and down. Oh shit. He’s even better looking up close. No one should look that fucking good.
I’ve had the feeling of wanting a man before, but it’s nothing like what’s pounding through my body at this moment. When I’d thought of wanting a man before there were never any faces or names. It was more the idea of what it would feel like, but now stupid Brad’s face is filling that blank spot.
This isn’t right. I can’t stand him, I remind myself over and over. I clench my fists as I try to ignore the throb in my lady bits and the pain of my nipples tightening. Instead, I pull my baggy hooded sweatshirt tight around me and gather my thoughts. I have to shut down these feelings and focus. It’s time.
I walk past the camera crew to the end of the block with Bo right on my heels. I dig in my shoulder bag and pull out my red rose, tucking it behind my ear. The flowers we leave behind as a calling card don’t mean much, but it drives the enemy crazy trying to figure out why we do it. So of course we keep it up. Anything to piss them off.
After circling back to the main stage, I take off my sweatshirt and leave it beside Bo, who knows to stay put. My tight black and white striped tank top is not approved for a woman to wear in public. It’s considered too revealing, but that’s the point. My heart rate rises and my face grows hot as I march past the crew.
Brad Chalmers’ eyes lock on my tits and I feel a rush of excitement as I see the hunger light up his eyes. I hate him for it. I don’t want to get excited by his heated look. I want to get excited about punching him in his face. I hold on to that hatred, because right now I need it.
I ball up my fist and plant my feet. I cold-cock him right in the face, then feel the cartilage crack and shift beneath my knuckles. The pain crawls up my arm, but the adrenaline is going now and I don’t focus on it.
The whole thing was almost too easy. He let me walk right up to him. The beast falls like timber and knocks his head on the pavement. In the commotion that follows, I reach down and swipe his pistol before cramming my red rose into his holster. I can’t stop myself from letting my fingers brush along his side, wanting to feel him.