Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Ayla processes this slowly. “Then what would your ideal date with me…look like?”
“My answer is going to scare you. I would rather blow my brains out than do that.”
“I won’t be scared.” And then she does something I never could have expected. Breathing nervously, she lifts her right hand and runs featherlight fingertips down the front of my work shirt. “Tell me.”
My control falters and I struggle to regain it, but I can’t. Before I am aware of my own movements, I’m grabbing the sides of her skirt and yanking her pussy tight against my lap. Leaning over her on the hood of the car while she stares up at me, wide-eyed. “It starts with our wedding and you taking my last name.” I lick across the seam of her mouth. “It ends with your panties my floor and the police showing up because you’re screaming so goddamn loud in my bed, the neighbors think I must be killing you.”
I watch her pupils dilate into black saucers and immediately regret every single word that just came out of my mouth. Ayla came here because she needed help. Not to have her innocent mind tarnished with the filth that’s floating through mine.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I have no right talking to you like that—”
“Why would I scream?” she interrupts, her tits heaving. “Would it hurt?”
My heart squeezes like a tomato in a vise. “I will never, ever hurt you. Do you understand me?”
She nods vigorously.
Does she have any idea her knees keep lifting, lifting, bringing her thighs up around my hips? Or is she doing it without thinking?
I press my lips against her ear and whisper, “You’d be screaming because it feels so good when I fuck you, Ayla.”
Her inner thigh muscles jump against my hips and I drop my face into her neck, groaning. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Careful, baby,” I groan. “Or I’m going to prove it on the hood of this car.”
Is it my imagination or is she tugging me closer now by the material of my coveralls. “Have you changed your mind about taking sex for payment?”
“No,” I manage hoarsely. “I haven’t changed my mind. It’s payment enough just to look at you. To be this close to a masterpiece.” I rake my mouth up the valley of her tits, inhaling her incredible scent. Memorizing her texture. “I’ll repair your car and ask for nothing but a smile in return.”
She’s restless beneath me, writhing between me and the car. A little more of this and I’ll come in my pants. Jesus Christ the way she moves. “And then what?” she asks, her fingers plowing into my hair in a way that I’ve always imagined her doing. So often that I can barely breathe now that it’s happening. “And then we go back to never talking? Just sitting near each other in class and pretending this never happened?”
It's pure and utter heaven hearing her sweet voice in my ear while our bodies are pressed together so intimately. This is what it would be like if we were married and had children. I could have this kind of access to her every single day. “I don’t think I can go back to the way things were now,” I admit, against my will.
Without thinking, I slide a hand under her ass and mold one taut bun in my hand.
She gasps and arches her back, thighs falling wider…and Christ. Christ.
If I don’t stop this now, I’m going to take her virginity right here. Tonight.
I know how it ends.
I swore I’d be the one to learn from the past.
I’m not going to saddle this angel with a baby at eighteen. She’ll eventually hate me. Resent me. The life will drain from her eyes when she realizes the future she could have had if I’d never entered the picture. I’ve seen it happen.
Break the pattern.
With a tortured shout, I pry myself off the sweetest place on the planet and hurl myself across the room, adjusting my dick with a prolonged wince. “I’ll fix the car. You have to go. Go.”
“I…” I turn and watch her slide off the hood of the car, visibly bewildered, her hair a mess. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. God, no. You couldn’t do anything wrong if you tried.” I rake agitated fingers through my hair. “It’s me. I have a sickness when it comes to you.”
“But—”
“Run, Ayla!” I bellow, picking up the closest metal wrench and throwing it back down, rattling the tools laid out on the worktable.
“No!” she shouts back, even though she’s shaking with nerves. “I don’t want to run.”
“What do you want, then, huh?” I fist my cock through my pants. “You want this?”
She blinks rapidly several times, her cheeks turning a deep shade of rose. “What if we t-try going on a date?” I stare at her incredulously, positive I heard her wrong. “We can find a happy medium between splitting a pizza and…and…the thing you said.”