Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Twenty minutes later, we push through the door to our small apartment and come crashing down on the couch, pizza and Moscato in hand. Mel and I have been living together since we were newbies at the hospital, both fumbling around like idiots hoping we didn’t cause more harm than good. We both started in the emergency room, but since then, we’ve professionally worked our way up and gone separate ways.
Mel absolutely adores children, hence why she works in the pediatric ward, and while I love kids too, I have a preference for newborns. They’re my weakness with their tiny little toes and fingers. I’d love to have one of my own one day, but it’s a real shame I can’t find anyone willing to make that happen. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of men out there willing to fuck me first, but the moment things start getting serious, they’re out the door and onto the next girl.
Me and men simply just don’t mix. Hell, sometimes I wonder if Mel and I should just bite the bullet and become the hottest lesbian couple known to humankind, but unfortunately, pussy just doesn’t turn me on the way a big dick does.
Every guy I’ve dated has turned out to be a complete loser. First, there was Johnny, my high school sweetheart, who wasn’t so much of a sweetheart after I caught him screwing our science teacher in the backseat of his shit-box car. Then there was the string of guys through college who were only interested in sex. Then came the star of my devastations, my ex, who tried to climb into bed with Mel seconds after being with me. Like, seriously? What the hell was going through his head? Did he honestly think he could get away with that shit?
So here we are, two very single ladies, scarfing down pizza on a Friday night, absolutely wasted. Sure, we could go out to a bar to try and find the loves of our lives, or we could sit here and get shit-faced with our feet up. Yeah, it’s a no-brainer, really. I know which option I’m taking.
“Oh,” Mel gasps, breaking me out of the disastrous thoughts of my failed love life. She jumps off the couch and dashes around our apartment searching for her handbag. I watch with wide eyes, having no idea what the hell is going on, and when she finds it by the front door, she dumps the contents of her bag out onto the coffee table.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask as she finally finds a little slip of paper and holds it up in triumph, clutching it tightly between her fingers before crashing back down beside me on the couch.
Mel grabs the TV remote and starts looking for something on the screen as she pulls her legs up under her on the couch, trying to get comfortable. “It’s lottery night,” she practically sings, waving the little slip of paper toward me and making me realize it’s a lottery ticket. “We’re about to win ten million buckeroos.”
“Oh, shit yeah,” I grin as I sit a little straighter on the couch, my knees bouncing in excitement despite knowing the likelihood of actually winning. “Here we come McMansion in the hills.”
“McMansion?” she scoffs. “You need to think bigger. I’m buying an island.”
I roll my eyes and laugh before pausing and glancing her way, my face scrunched up in question. “Is ten million even enough to buy an island? I mean, maybe you could just buy a section of the island and rope it off so tourists don’t come and shit on your beach.”
“Huh, good point,” Mel says as she finally finds what she’s looking for and we see the numbers already on the screen. We check twice before all our hopes and dreams are well and truly shattered. Hell, we weren’t even a little bit close.
Mel holds up her glass and clinks it against mine. “Here’s to living in poverty,” she says with a fake grin.
I can’t help but laugh as I lift my glass to my lips and take a big drink. “We’re not doing that bad,” I tell her, needing to defend what little we have.
“I know,” she sighs as she tears up the lottery ticket and throws it behind the couch, watching as the tiny pieces float to the floor like snowflakes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the life we have here, but there’s just something thrilling about the idea of living on a private tropical island with a hunky piece of man meat worshipping my body all day long. Just picture it, lying naked on the beach, getting all hot and sweaty, then going to bathe under a natural waterfall. Obviously, we would fuck again right there under the cascading water.”
“Shit,” I sigh, seeing the ultimate dream so well. There’s no denying it, I want it too. Only I’m not sure about the fucking on the beach. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than having sand thrust up my coochy.