Word Count Check-In

Last week's count is better at 4716 words but still not quite where I want it to be, especially considering I wanted the first draft of this manuscript complete by the end of May. Setting new goals and shooting for the end of June! (Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy!) Anyway, my goal for the completed MS is between 53--55K and I'm over 40K now, so that much is tracking.

An excerpt from Chapter 13:

“Cariño, I need to use the facilities. Come with me.” It wasn’t that I needed to use the restroom so much as I needed a break from Ryan. The man wasn’t a total ass, but I could see that he over-shadowed Cherry and I began to understand his lack of confidence. He had littered the afternoon’s conversations with subtle corrections and dismissals that he never threw David’s way. I had the feeling it was an old habit, something that went back to when they were first together. I could easily see Cherry, in his early twenties, as being shy and unsure. And I could equally see Ryan as being the type to take the hesitant young man under his wing. He wasn’t intentionally mean or condescending, but it was undermining Cherry’s confidence, even now. It had to stop.
“We’re a bit old to go to the bathroom together, don’t you think?” Cherry said, even as he followed me.
“Probably.” I’d noticed the family restroom when we came in, and I grabbed Cherry’s wrist and pulled him in with me.
He gasped in shock and twisted away from me. “Hey, we can’t be in here. Isn’t this for people with kids?”
“No one’s using it, so I think it’s okay,” I said as I shoved him against the door harder than I meant to, and his head hit the wood with a thud. “Sorry,” was all I said as I covered his mouth with my own, swallowing his reply, feeling the vibration against my lips. Then he was kissing me back. His hand traveled up my back to twist into my hair, pulling as he twined his fingers in where it was thickest at the back until his nails were scratching against my scalp. I moaned at the sensation and pressed my body into his. He took charge and ravished my mouth, almost aggressively, and I wondered how much of this was a ‘fuck you’ to Ryan. To say I didn’t care would be an overstatement. I really didn’t care why he was kissing me like this, just as long as he didn’t stop sweeping his tongue inside my mouth. His vanilla scent filled my head as the taste of the wine he’d been sipping filled my mouth.

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