Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Can you not dry hump in front of my mom?” she jokes, her voice for only us.
Brady shakes with silent laughter, and I give a little hip roll just to be a brat, loving the hiss that fills my ear. “Don’t be jelly that your man is too much of a gentleman to pull you on his lap in front of your daddy.”
Noah leans across her lap, having heard, his own dark brow raised in challenge. “I can be a gentleman and still do dirty, dirty things in private.”
I open my mouth in shocked glee. “Noah Riley, I am so proud of you right now.”
He chuckles, and it only deepens when Ari’s neck flushes red, but she gives me a little side smirk.
Go, bestie.
Over the next few hours, good food and great conversation flow, my dad on the barbecue tonight. The only person we’re missing is Chase’s mom, but when Mason asked about her, no one said a word, so we haven’t mentioned it again.
Night falls and all of our parents, with Mason and his little fam in tow, head back to the city while the rest of us pile into the house, rearranging the room assignments to fit our agendas. After a movie and a couple games of cards, Brady wraps his arms around me, lowering his chin to my shoulder. “Walk with me, baby.”
I turn instantly, following him out the back of the house and down the little path that leads to the barn. The doors are already pushed open, the place mostly cleared out while it waits to be filled with this year’s harvest anytime now.
Brady heads over to the ladder and motions for me to hop on. I slip between his body and the wood to start to climb, but he halts me when my hands wrap around the old wood.
“Not so fast, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick and husky, letting me know playtime is coming.
My baby is needy, and I’m eager to please. “Tell me what you want, man of mine.”
His hands come around the front of me, an AU beanie with his number on it in his hands. “Close your eyes.”
I do so instantly, and he slips the knit cap over my head, pulling it down over my eyes.
He gives my ass a little smack. “Now, climb.”
I start up, the heat of his body enveloping mine as he scales with me, a safety shadow at my back.
“Just feel around and hike on up,” he says when I reach the top.
Instantly, I recognize something different. My palms come down not on old wood but thick, plush pillowing. There’s a moment’s hesitation when I notice this, and Brady laughs lightly.
“Go on, baby. Up.” His voice is a velvety command.
My pussy flutters and I bite at the inside of my lip.
Once I’m up, he guides me with a hand on my hip until I’m shuffled a little to the left.
There’s movement around me, a soft click, and then his knuckles brush my cheeks as he lifts the makeshift blindfold.
I blink, my eyes adjusting. The first thing I catch sight of is the wall along the back of the loft. A curtain of purple lights is hung from top to bottom in long, twinkling strips. The second are the stars dangling from the roof, a slight glow to each of them. Beneath my palm is a padding not unlike what you’d find in a window seat, but it stretches across the entire area. In the back corner are mismatched pillows in an array of colors and a few stacks of blankets beside them.
The slight creak of wood draws my attention, and I turn as Brady pushes open the little door that leads to the rooftop, the moon bright beyond it.
The creek flows behind outside, the stream a lot calmer than it was in November.
Brady looks back my way, an almost shy smile on his lips. He runs his hand over the back of his hair, looking across the space. “I want to add a little fridge, maybe some speakers, but—”
His words die in his throat when I lean forward and crawl his way.
His pupils blow wide, and he goes from his knees to his ass, waiting with eager hands for me to reach him.
His large palms come around my ass as soon as I do, and I give Ari a silent thank-you for suggesting we wear sweat shorts instead of pajamas.
I’m straddling his lap in seconds, and my mouth comes down on his with a hard, possessive kiss. I lick his lips, biting at his tongue, and he groans, his dick hardening beneath me.
“It’s perfect, Brady. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, dipping into my neck and kissing what I think might be his favorite spot. He’s basically tattooed his name there with his rough tongue and teeth alone.