Total pages in book: 436
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
I crossed my legs, my mouth undeterred as I licked that ice cream like my future depended on it.
“It was so hard not to text you.” I closed my lips over the top of my scoop.
“How hard?” he teased me back.
I just kept watching that creamy ice cream on his tongue, squeezing my thighs together like a goddamn vise.
“It just kept getting harder and harder with no hope of release. Cruel really.”
“So why didn’t you text me?”
I shrugged, playing coy. “Didn’t want you to think I was easy.”
We both laughed for a minute.
“So how much did you think of me?” I asked innocently, fondling my cone.
“Oh, only about every minute of every day.” His feet sandwiched my foot on the ground and squeezed, shifting his sneakers up and down in slow, opposite strokes, just an inch or two’s distance.
Somehow, it drove me completely insane.
“You?” he asked.
“A time or two. Once when I was in the shower.”
“Mmm,” he hummed with his cone in his mouth.
“Another time when I was lying in bed, wishing you’d texted me. I thought about you a lot that night. Three times. Every time, I would think I’d gotten you out of my head and whoops — you’d pop up again.”
“Well, I can’t help popping up. Not when I remember you eat ice cream like that.”
I smiled and dragged my tongue around the diameter of the scoop.
“All that thinking and no doing,” he said. “I really feel like we should be doing a whole lot more than we have the last couple of days.”
I nodded. “Why didn’t you text me?” I tried to keep the uncertainty out of my voice.
If he’d heard it, he didn’t react.
He shrugged and echoed my words, “Didn’t want you to think I was easy.”
I laughed. “Maybe I like easy.”
“Well then, you’re in luck. Because when it comes to you, I’m so easy.”
Bodie’s elbows were on the table and so were mine, the two of us leaning toward each other.
“What do you say we get out of here?” he asked.
And I smiled back. “I thought you’d never fucking ask.”
Commando
We hurried down the sidewalk, still holding our ice cream, our free hands threaded together, fingers shifting and stroking each other’s. Only Penny could make holding hands feel dirty.
She lived just around the corner — we didn’t even have to stop for a light — and when we reached the building, we ran up the stairs, both of us laughing, bursting into her quiet apartment.
I closed the door, and our laughter faded to soft smiles as we watched each other, breathless, from across the room.
Penny took off her sunglasses and set them on the kitchen table, licking her ice cream as she kicked off her shoes.
I kicked mine off too, my eyes on her.
She wasn’t wearing a bra — her nipples were hard, the barbells of her piercing straining against the fabric of her T-shirt as my cock fought the confines of my shorts.
Her fingers trailed down her sternum, and my eyes locked on them as they hooked under the hem of her shirt. And then she pulled, dragging it up until it rested just above her breasts, exposing her tattooed torso to me. Large etched and watercolor flowers climbed up her ribs, stopping under the curves of her breasts, meeting between them in a point, like a corset, and the artwork above framed them with perfect symmetry.
She stuck out her tongue and put it to the scoop, spinning the cone to coat it, but she didn’t swallow. She left her tongue out, dripping creamy ice cream down her chin as she took her cone and dragged the scoop between her breasts and down to her belly button.
I tossed my ice cream toward the sink without looking, thankful to hear the thunk as it hit its target. There was no way in hell anything was going to stop me from getting to her.
I rushed her, closing my mouth over hers, sucking the sticky sweetness from her tongue as she moaned. It had been too long without her, too long since this. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and I stood, lifting her off the ground, her body pressed against mine like I’d been dreaming of.
“Bedroom?” I panted.
She jerked her head toward a room behind her. “That way,” she breathed.
“Don’t you dare leave that ice cream.”
She smiled and kissed me, wrapping her legs around my waist as I blindly carried her through the apartment, bumping into furniture along the way.
I lowered her onto the bed and moved down her body, sucking on her skin where she’d left a trail to the promised land, cupping her breast in my hand.
I missed you, I thought, saying nothing with words and everything with the long caress of my tongue on her body.
When I reached her shorts, I looked up while I unfastened them — she lay there, head propped up by pillows, watching me as she ate the fucking ice cream cone that might be the death of me.