Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
His hand pressed down against my thigh to hold me in place, and he straight up devoured my pussy by flicking my clit, slipping between my wet folds, and dipping inside me. “So fucking wet for me,” he growled.
“Please,” I panted, drawing his gaze back to my face.
He kept his blue eyes locked on mine as he tugged my clit into his mouth, giving it a quick, little suck. I detonated, screaming out his name as I experienced my first orgasm from someone else. It was stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. When I came back down from it, I felt utterly sated and incredibly sleepy. I could barely keep my eyes open as Tyler stretched out on the mattress next to me, and I cuddled against him as I drifted off to sleep.
7
Tyler
I woke up to the smell of bacon wafting into my bedroom from the kitchen, and it took me a moment to get my bearings. Rolling off the mattress, I padded out of my room and went in search of Mia.
I quickly spotted her standing near my stove. She was wearing the shirt and boxers I had given her last night and looked sexy as hell. “I thought you said you like to catch up on sleep on Sunday mornings.”
She jumped a little before looking over her shoulder. “For a big guy, you sure are quiet on your feet.”
“Sorry for startling you, sweetheart.” I moved behind her to peer over her shoulder. “You didn’t have to wake up early and make me breakfast.”
“I know, but I had a ton of energy when I woke up and was hungry.” She smiled up at me. “I hope you don’t mind that I raided your kitchen.”
“Feel free to treat my kitchen as your kitchen as often as you’d like,” I reassured her before snagging a piece of bacon off the paper towel-lined plate next to the stove and popping it into my mouth. It was cooked perfectly, but I couldn’t care less. Even if she was the world’s worst cook and couldn’t boil water, she was still welcome in my kitchen whenever she wanted to be there.
“You have perfect timing because the breakfast casserole will be ready in another minute.”
I’d never been a fan of breakfast casseroles, but I was determined to eat whatever she served me. “I’ll set the table.”
After I put out the plates and silverware, I made some coffee. Mia dished us each up a healthy portion of the casserole, and I added several pieces of bacon to my plate. With my first bite, I discovered my concerns were unwarranted. The mixture of hash browns, eggs, cheese, and sausage gravy was delicious. “Wow, this is incredible,” I mumbled after polishing off half of the serving she had given me.
“I’m glad you like it.” She beamed a smile my way over her mug of coffee. “When I went scrounging in your fridge and freezer, I discovered you had all the ingredients. It made me feel nostalgic for one of my all-time favorite breakfasts, so I decided to make it.”
Her green eyes held a hint of pain and sadness, and I set my fork down to focus on her as I asked, “Nostalgic?”
“Yeah, my mom used to make this casserole at least once a month, but I haven’t had it in more than three years.” She blinked away tears. “My parents died in a boating accident during my senior year of high school, and I haven't wanted to make it again until now.”
I was honored that she had chosen to cook something so important to her for me, but I was also sad to know she had gone through something so traumatic at a vulnerable age. “I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't even begin to imagine how it felt to lose them both at the same time. It was hard enough for my sister and me when our dad passed away last year, and we're both already adults.”
“Thanks.” She flashed me a watery grin. “I don't think there's ever a time when we're ready to say goodbye to our parents. Maybe it would’ve helped a little to have someone to share in the grief with me.”
“You don't have any siblings?” I hadn't noticed until now that she'd avoided any mention of her family at dinner last night.
“Nope, no brothers or sisters for me. My parents were only children, too.” She looked down at her plate and pushed the food around with her fork.
As much as I wanted to know everything about her, Mia’s feelings took precedence over mine. “We don't have to talk about this if you aren’t ready. I don't want to ruin the breakfast casserole for you when it’s been so long since you’ve had it.”
“You aren't ruining anything,” she reassured me. “It’s just hard to talk about them, but that's not fair to them because they deserve to be remembered.”