Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Mitch nods, then gestures for Jake to follow him so he can get the kid—who isn’t so much a kid anymore—caught up on what he’s doing.
And that’s just the start of the shit show that today ends up being.
The motor failed in my air compressor, and I have to wait a day for the repairman to come take care of it.
It took me three times longer than it should have to access a goddamn fuel filter in a Suburban and ate up more than two hours of my time.
I had three emergencies brought in, and by emergencies, I mean the owner practically begged me to get their job done next, no matter the cost.
Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
It’s just a colossal dumpster fire of a day, and when I have two minutes to check the time, my frustration level is at a ten when I see that it’s well past six in the evening. Gabe and Jake are long gone for the day, and I’m here alone.
I was never able to get away and help my wife with her restaurant. I still have several hours of work to do here tonight.
Picking up my phone, I notice that I missed a few texts from her.
Wildfire: I hope you’re having a good day! All is well over here, just miss you.
Fuck, she’s sweet.
Wildfire: Things are going faster than I expected. Should be done by around six. Want me to bring you dinner?
Shit, that was an hour ago. I wash my hands and am about to start typing a response when the door opens, and my girl walks in, holding a bag of food, very much like that night a few weeks ago.
Fuck, I want her.
Her eyes scan the garage, and then she smiles when she sees me.
“You’ve always loved John Mellencamp,” she says, pointing up, as if the speaker is just above her head. “I brought you dinner. I made some—”
“Put the bag down, Juliet.”
Her blue eyes widen, and she licks her lower lip as she walks to the counter and sets the bag of food—that smells fucking incredible—aside.
“Take your clothes off.”
Her eyebrows climb in surprise.
“You want me to—”
“I won’t tell you twice.”
I’m wound the fuck up. Seeing her here, with all of those blond curls gathered in a bun on her head, in little denim shorts and a blue T-shirt that matches her eyes, has my blood simmering. She’s so fucking beautiful, and she’s all fucking mine.
Jules tilts her head to the side as I finish drying my hands, and she reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugs it over her head, and tosses it onto the clean counter.
I lean back on the car I’ve been working on, cross my arms over my chest, and watch.
She starts to walk toward me, but I shake my head, and she stops.
“I didn’t say you could do that.”
Her pupils blow wide. Juliet loves it when I dominate her. When I’m in control. She responds to me so beautifully, so fucking perfectly, it’s all I can do to stand here and not lift her against the wall and pound into her until neither of us knows our own name.
“You’re—”
“Take off your fucking clothes, wife.”
She fights the smile that wants to spread over her pillowy lips, unfastens her shorts, and lets them fall, stepping out of them and setting them with her shirt.
When her hands fall to her sides, I brush my finger over my lower lip and wait.
“Do you need me to finish the job for you, Wildfire?”
She swallows thickly, so fucking turned on her panties have to be soaked for me. Reaching behind her back, she unfastens her bra, and when she’s left in her pretty pink panties, I push off the vehicle and slowly walk to her, like I’m an animal stalking its prey.
“Brooks.” It’s a whisper and makes my already hard-as-fuck cock ache.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
Taking her face in my hands, I lean down to brush my lips over hers and breathe her in.
“I am now. I’m going to fuck you, right here, just like last time.” Her little gasp and the way her nipples are rock hard tell me that she doesn’t hate that idea. “I’m going to feast on this pretty pussy.”
My hand glides down her stomach, under her panties, and when I cup her and feel how sopping wet she is for me, I groan.
“Fuck, Wildfire.”
“You’re the sexiest man,” she says with a sigh, her hands diving into my hair as I slide a finger inside her. “You can do whatever you want to me. I’m yours.”
“Fuck yes, you are.”
I turn her away from me.
“Hands on the counter.”
She follows directions so damn well, and pushes her ass out, inviting everything that I’m about to give her.
Hooking my fingers under the elastic at her hips, I lower the pink panties, help her step out of them, and then stuff them in my pocket.