14 Hundred Hours Romane & Geschichten

Kingswood, 2014 I am staring at the clock. I don't think the damned machine is working. My fingers are fidgeting and I keep tapping my legs under the desk. "Ms. Clarkson, stop tapping your feet or I will have to extend the hours for you," Ms. Crook grunts. I glare at her and roll my eyes. "Young lady, did you just roll your eyes at me?" she snaps with her high-pitched voice, her eyes burning with fury.

I was never known to be the overly emotional type. I did really well in school. Numbers were my speciality. So as I sat in the overly large waiting room, I ran them in my head. A woman is pregnant for nine months. Let's say that that doesn't involve February. That would be 275 days. A million divided by 275, that's a little over 3,600 a day. Divide that by 24 hours and we have a total of $150 an hour.

Now what was Perry going to say. Karen sighed. "He might end up not putting through with the video call. I hate waiting." Ken said. Karen stared at the laptop with a blank black screen. "I hate waiting too" she said And then the call came in. Perry looked like he was stealing time to talk to them. He was in his white robe, looked straighter and taller, he was sitting, his oblong shape of head darting with his own blond hair of the white type of gold. He had blue eyes, a clean shave, and a blue inner shirt. He had a very obvious Adam apple.

“Mykel, what’s wrong?” “I just noticed that you have twenty hours researching, reading, three hours of sleep, then one hour for three meals. If you start working at the Kross Corp, do you still have time for home? For me.” Not to mention, she also enrolled in a seminar online twice a week for three months.

André glared at the doctor, and he fidgeted a little. “Thirty hours” The doctor gave a nervous nod. “Yes, Alpha.” “Well then, your time starts now…”

Alpha Mars' POV Twelve fucking hours! I have been in this stuffy SUV for twelve fucking hours. The only reason we didn’t fly is because my mother thought we might be bringing back some new pack members if pack members found their mates. Makes sense, but TWELVE FUCKING HOURS!!!

Does it mean I'll have to deal with this pain for ten more hours? "How many hours does he train?" I ask again. "Dane trains for eleven hours every weekday and six hours on weekends alongside numerous pack and business meetings " Eleven hours? Does he even rest?" "I'll just wait till he finishes" I didn't want to come off as too desperate. I mean I can handle this but what about my wolf, she was literally running crazy and howling at me every second like it was my fault. "Okay, if you say so, let's go to town and get some pizza and ice cream, you'll like that right?"

Everything. Two hundred yards. Practiced at fifty. Way different. Farther. Wind. More ways to screw up. Checked phone. Seven thirty. Four and a half hours. Now she just had to wait.

Wind carved through ruins like a blade, howling through collapsed towers and hollowed streets, carrying with it the whispers of a dead age. Deep beneath that wasteland, hidden under layers of ice and reinforced steel, Adrian stood before a glowing digital holomap. Eighteen hours. That was how long he spent each day here. Eighteen hours staring into the skeletal remains of the human world, not as it was but as it would soon become Gone.

"Even in the middle of something?" "Yes. Every time. Without exception." He held her gaze. "Your safety matters more than my satisfaction. Always." Something in her chest loosened. A tension she hadn't known she was carrying. "Okay," she said. "Soft limit. We work up to it." He made a note. "Anything else you want to discuss?" "The orgasm control section. You said forty-eight hours maximum." "Unless negotiated." "What's the longest you've made someone wait?" "Five days. But that was someone experienced. Someone who'd trained for years." His eyes held hers. "We'd start much smaller."