Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I see something appealing, alright,” I cross the room and plop down on the couch next to her, plucking the carton and remote from her hands. “It’s wearing a cute little button down shirt and nothing else, and it screams my name when it comes.”
“Oh my god.” Her cheeks gets bright red and she grabs a pillow, burying her face completely in it. After a few seconds, she raises her head, narrowing her eyes at me. “I do not scream.”
I wave my hand airily. “Semantics; moaning, screaming – whatever you want to call it.”
“Why are we having this conversation? You said you wanted food.”
“Correction: I did want food. But you’re just so damn cute sitting there all… post-coital. It’s turning me on again. Come on, let’s do it on the couch.” I reach for her, but she slaps my hands away, laughing.
“I’m not doing it with you on the couch. Try again later. Give me back that Bok Choy.”
But I’m undeterred (perseverance is one of my best qualities) and try again. “So… you’re not necessarily saying ‘no’ to the couch sex…?”
She pins me down with a stare – okay, it’s more of a glare – but doesn’t say anything until, “Did you send that SnapChat to Molly that you took before?”
“No. It was pretty racy. I think I’ll keep it for myself and jerk off to when I’m out of town.” She stares again, this time with her mouth hanging open. “Shit. Did I say that out loud?”
Newsflash: I’m always saying shit like that out loud.
I ignore her look of horror and forge on. “Want to take another one? We can pretend we have all our clothes on.” I wink at her, earning yet another blush for the evening.
“Okay, but this time you come sit on my lap,” Cecelia pats her legs, which I can’t help noticing are tan and smooth - which makes me really want to touch them… idly run my palms up in between them…
Crap. I can’t stop the dirty thoughts and lick my lips, which causes Cecelia to snap her fingers in front of my face. “Hey buddy, stop daydreaming. Eyes up here.”
Gee. I guess we know who’s going to wear the pants in this relationship: not me.
At this point she could tell me to get on the floor, roll around and bark like a dog - and I would do it. Not that I’m going to be divulging that information to her. No. No guy wants a woman to know how much control she has over him, but… you know. Just saying.
Cecelia is amazing.
Sexy. Smart. Funny. Beautiful inside and out.
And the most attractive quality of all: she puts up with my bullshit. Have I mentioned this before? Well. Even if I have, so what?
She’s not perfect, but she’s mine. Or more like, I’m hers.
Looking at her now, curled up on my couch patting her lean legs, I want her to curl up on me. Instead, she takes the carton of Bok Choy off the coffee table and sucks a long noodle through her pursed lips, the juice making a messy sucking sound as she inhales it, not looking one bit appalled by her lack of table manners. She looks at me and shrugs, as if to say ‘oops, sorry’ before wrapping another long noodle around the fork.
“I’m not kidding Cecelia. I can’t sit here and watch you eat that shit without wanting to peel that shirt off you and drag you back to the bedroom.”
“Are you nuts? You’re either blind or a complete lunatic. I have my mouth stuffed with noodles. How can you possibly be turned on right now?” She asks sarcastically as she swallows, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.
Um, maybe it’s because I can see her nipples through the gaps in her shirt when she moves her arms; however, far be it from me to mention this fact. “Trust me. It’s possible.”
She tosses her long, mussed-up sex hair over one shoulder and sasses, “Well you’re just going to have to wait.”
“How can I convince you,” I ask, whining a little bit and trying to look pathetic, hoping maybe she’ll take pity on me and rip off her panties.
Cecelia takes another long drag of Bok Choy and tips her chin at an indignant angle, sighing. “You can’t.”
“Fine. Then let’s at least take a Snap and send it to my sister.”
I sit move closer to her on the couch, grabbing my phone and opening the app.
Cecelia gulps, eyeing my chest nervously. “Um, aren’t you going to at least put your shirt back on?”
“Hell no. My sister deserves to be frazzled by our after-sex selfie. It’ll serve her right for being so damn nosy. Now get closer.” I take the noodles from her again, setting them back on the table, and put my arm around her - and since I’m a head taller, try to look down her shirt.