Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Shh.” I half growl, half groan. “I don’t want to stop you when you’re this close, but you gotta be quiet.”
“I’ll try!” She gasps, her breath shaking as she struggles to contain herself. “I can’t …”
I hear the panic in her voice. I’ve heard it before. This is the precipice of her orgasm and I know my girl. She’s gonna get loud.
I sit up, wrapping my arms around her and guiding her back onto my chest.
She pants, her eyes starting to roll, as I play with her nipples.
“You can’t scream, remember?” I whisper in her ear, chuckling. “Come on. You gotta behave.”
She turns her head so she can look me in the eye with a coy grin on her lips. “I don’t think I can.”
I pull out of her, tossing her onto the bed beside me. She yelps at the sudden movement, the sound breaking into a giggle.
“Face down,” I say, sliding an arm around her middle. “Ass up.”
She folds her body, bringing a pillow to her face as I line the head of my cock up with her opening.
“Don’t. Scream,” I say through clenched teeth just before I hammer into her.
She screams. Thankfully, the pillow deadens most of it.
“I’m going to come in about five fucking seconds,” I say as I drive my cock into her soaked flesh.
Her muscles quiver around me and her body begins to shake. I flex against her and explode while buried all the way in.
“Fucking hell, Markie,” I groan, trembling with the force of my orgasm.
The muffled sounds of her own climax hitting her make mine last even longer.
Finally, when I’m empty and she’s practically collapsed, held up only by my forearm beneath her, I slowly slide out of her. Then I guide her gently to the bed and lie beside her.
She takes a moment to catch her breath, then giggles. “You just fucked up.”
I drag her across the mattress until her back is flat against my chest.
“If that’s what I get for wearing a Landry shirt, consider that my new uniform,” she says, all too pleased with herself.
I kiss the top of her head. “I wouldn’t. Next time, I’ll tie your ass up. Ball gag you, maybe.”
“Promise?”
I fall back on the bed and shake my head. “There’s no winning with you.”
“Oh, the state of my thighs would beg to differ.”
I chuckle as she scoots over and lays her head on my chest.
We need to get up and take a shower, and I probably need to pick Gus up off the living room floor. But there’s something wonderful about lying here with her in my arms, in the quiet house, with the rain starting up again outside.
This is the shit movies are made about. It’s a scene I’ve watched countless times and didn’t think was real.
But it is real. She’s real.
And she’s wearing my shirt and everything about this moment feels more real than anything I’ve ever experienced.
It feels like … more.
“One day, you’ll find it—that missing part of your life that you never knew existed. Your life will be filled with something more beautiful and special than you could ever dream, and that’s what I want for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
This is it. This is what she was describing—the thing I never really thought I’d find. But I did. Markie is more. Still, what I said to Gus stands. Our lives don’t intersect outside of Sugar Creek.
Isn’t there any way to make her mine?
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Jory
“Dad!” Gus yells, racing around the corner and sliding on his socks like he’s in a nineties romcom. He comes to a stop by grabbing the doorframe to my bedroom. “Hey. Dad.”
“Hey. Gus.”
He lifts a brow the way I do to him when I think he’s mocking me. “My friends are here, and they’re going to ride bikes by Sugar Creek behind Miller’s. Ricky … who you don’t know, but he’s been friends with Josh since they were born, and I think they’re cousins, but everyone here seems to be cousins or whatever. Anyway, Ricky has an extra bike that was his brother’s, but his brother is in college now and doesn’t ride it, and Ricky said he won’t care if I use it because he doesn’t think his brother even remembers that he has it—”
“Gus. Slow down, kid. Breathe.”
He gasps a breath and laughs. “So, can I go? Please?”
I put the socks into the drawer and then peer out the window. The sky is clear with marshmallow-like clouds floating across it.
“Do you have your phone?” I ask.
“Yes. Of course. I know the rules.”
“Then, fine. You can go. But be smart and stay away from the water.”
“Okay.”
“And if I call—”
“I gotta answer!” he says, already out of sight. “I know! Thanks, Dad! Love you!”
The door slams, effectively ending our conversation.
I stare at the spot he just left, thinking we need to talk about patience and respect. Yet a smile touches my lips. The kid’s so new here and yet he’s being asked to do things with other kids every day. Small-town living is good for a little boy. Let him live.