Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“You’re sleeping over?” I ask as he walks up the steps with me trailing him.
He turns on the lights in my bedroom, letting my hand go. “I’m not just going to drive you home and make you do the ‘walk of shame’ and then leave.” He uses his fingers to do the air quotes. “If people will shame you, I might as well spend the night so they can really know we banged.”
I clap my hands together, laughing. “We could just be sleeping.”
“We could”—he kicks off his shoes—“but we’re not going to be.” He winks at me before he bends one arm, grabbing the back of his shirt, ripping it over his head, and tossing it to the side. The minute I see his chest and tattoo, my stomach gets that flutter. At first, I thought it was because I didn’t really eat, but then the same thing happened every time I saw it. He’s, without a shadow of a doubt, the best I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of him, and from the way we went at it the last day and a half, neither can he.
“Well, it’s good to know I’m going to get lucky tonight.” I walk to him, putting one hand on his stomach, the heat of him soaring through me before I kiss him. “And maybe tomorrow before you leave.” I kiss the side of his neck before walking into my walk-in closet. He doesn’t follow me as I undress and put my stuff to be dry-cleaned aside before grabbing a pair of a dark blush-pink satin shorts and matching tank top.
I walk back to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and doing my skincare routine. When I walk back into the bedroom, his clothes are thrown on the bench in front of the bed and he’s sitting down with his back to the headboard as he flips the channels on the television. “Comfy?” I ask, pulling the covers back and getting into bed.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I look over at him as I fluff my pillows to lie against.
“My pj’s.” I look and lie back as I turn to watch the television and see what he’s stopped at.
“Why?” I look back over at him, seeing the perplexed way he’s looking at my top and then back up at me. “If we’re in bed together, it has to be naked.”
“Is that a rule?” I ask. “You’re not naked.” I reach out under the blanket, thinking I’m going to encounter his cotton boxers, but instead, my hand lands on his hard cock.
“Naked.” He tosses the remote to the side of the bed before covering me and pushing me on my back. “How am I supposed to just slide into you if there is a barrier?”
I smile at him, raising one of my hands up to touch his face. “Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?”
“Well, not besides my parents, who have to say that because they made me.” He bends to kiss the tip of my nose gently. “I’ve been called hot and all that, but never beautiful.”
“Well, you’re hot also,” I confirm as he smiles back at me, “but you are beautiful.”
“I figured I would have to be to land the most beautiful girl in town.” He kisses me, his tongue sliding in with mine. My legs open for him as he plants himself in the middle of them. “This is why you have to be naked,” he explains when he lets go of my lips and moves the kisses down to my neck. “I could have slid right in.”
“I will never come to bed with you with clothes on,” I declare as his hands frantically move to take off the satin pj set I’m wearing, leaving me naked. He wastes no time sliding into me. My back arches up as my legs wrap around him as if he was made for me. “Yes.”
“See?” he says, resting his forehead on mine as he fucks me.
“You were right.” I hold on to his sides as he moves into me faster. “You were so right.” I bite his jaw, and ten minutes later, I’ve come five times, and he’s just come on me again.
“You know that I shower, right,” I deadpan once he’s rubbed it into me, “and it gets washed away?”
“Yeah”—he gets out of the bed, and his cock is hanging sideways, still at half-mast—“but until then, you have my mark on you.”
I shake my head, getting out of bed with him. “That makes no sense.”
“To you because you aren’t a guy, you don’t get it.” He slaps my ass as we make it to the bathroom, where I open the shower door before starting the water, then closing it.
“Men are weird,” I mumble, watching him lean against the counter and fold his arms over his chest and cross his feet at the ankle. “Women don’t do any of this.”