This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,49

about the well-being of others. Of me. Even if I did just act like a complete asshole after our kiss.

Most people think I’m a freak, hence the hiding away on my beachside estate. My father protects me the best that he can but occasionally my issues are exploited by others. Because of the success of my father’s company, I’m sometimes dragged into the public eye for scrutinizing. They usually give up after enough refusals to comment and my hiding away for sometimes months.

But even with my escapes from the limelight, I often will come across someone who is horrified by my behaviors. Whether it be a postal worker delivering a package or a friendly neighbor popping over to say hi. They all learn quickly that I’m a fucking mess. Each and every one of them glares at me with disgust written all over their faces. Snarled lips. Wide eyes. Slack jaws.

Get over it. It’s all in your head.

I get so fucking tired of that line. Of course it’s in my goddamned head. If I knew how to get it out, I’d have already found a way to crack open my skull and scoop the shit out. Smear it all over the fucking walls and light it on fire. Watch it burn to the shitty-ass ground I have to walk on every single day.

“War?”

Her brows are pinched together in concern. Once again she amazes me with her selflessness when it comes to me.

“Yes, please. Use the soap in the kitchen. Wash them twice just in case. Sometimes bacteria can get left on your hands even after three minutes of solid washing with soap and water. That’s why I wash for four minutes the first time and then four minutes more the second time before playing chess. By then, everything should be removed.” I rattle off my words. “Should being the key word. My chess pieces are precious to me and need to be handled properly. So just in case, wash your hands twice. Four minutes each.”

Her eyes widen and she sets to chewing on her lip. All horrifying thoughts of germs crawling all over her fingertips and infecting my rooks, bishops, pawns, queens, and kings scamper from my mind as I focus on her mouth. The bottom lip is plump and swollen. Ripe for sucking.

Thirty-seven minutes and sixteen seconds ago, I had my mouth on hers. The monster inside of me screams at me—reminding me of the insane amount of microorganisms that are most likely inhabiting her tongue and gums. Those microbes are how diseases are transferred.

Fucking stop already.

I blink one, two, three times and lick my own lips. I’d been in such a hurry to scrub her from me but now I’m wishing I could still taste her. My body thrums to kiss her again but the demons in my head laugh in my fucking face.

You. Can’t. Do. It.

“How will I know how long four minutes is?” she questions, grabbing my attention again.

I frown. “You count. That’s what I do. Two hundred and forty seconds each. Total of four hundred and eighty seconds.”

She bursts into a girlish laughter that distracts me. It’s innocent and light and I want to bathe in the sound of it. Her voice is one I could listen to all day long and never grow weary.

“Maybe you should buy me a watch so I don’t mess up,” she finally says once her humor has died down. “Until then, can you do it with me?”

I’m already shopping online in my head. Sizes and brands and thicknesses of watches I’ve seen in passing filter through my head like a personalized catalogue. Her wrist is so delicate and dainty but her spirit is strong. I will have to find something that harnesses both.

“Warren. Focus.”

I blink at her and try to shake off the thoughts that are maddening me. Rose gold? That would be stunning against her pale flesh and—

“War,” she snaps, walking past me and nearly brushing against my shoulder. “Think about all that’s running through your head later. After our chess game. I’m ready to learn.”

With a deep sigh, I nod and stalk after her toward the kitchen. The globe of her ass jiggles with each step she takes and my cock responds almost magnetically to her. Explosive thoughts dull and fade as I focus on her gorgeous figure.

She dutifully washes her hands.

The suds lathering up nicely on her perfect skin and I become mesmerized.

I find it difficult to focus on anything around her, anything near her, anything

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