Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Uh, thank you,” I said, holding the door open when I got there.
Tunnel walked right in, Sienna trailing behind him with a bag of her own and the cat.
“Did you get the hatch closed?” I questioned as I looked back outside.
It was, indeed, closed.
I shook my head in amazement.
“Yeah,” Tunnel said. “Got it closed and got your cat out. She’s going to die, one of these days, of heat exhaustion if she’s not careful about getting in there.”
See, Tunnel and I were always on the same page.
“I know,” I said softly as I watched him move around the kitchen and start putting stuff away. “I tell her that all the time.”
Tunnel gave me a wistful look.
I knew that look.
Tunnel hated this cat and always had, since the day that the cat started hating him.
It was amusing to me, since the cat had no problem with me, but the moment that Tunnel came anywhere near Taco, the cat started to go nuts.
Tunnel opened the pantry up and started to put away items, being sure to leave all of the ingredients I would need for the tamales out.
I hadn’t told him I was making them, but once he saw all of the ingredients I would need to make them in the bags, he decided on his own that I would be making them tonight.
I started to giggle. “You’re terrible.”
He shrugged unrepentantly.
So that was how I ended up making tamales and getting my little girl to eat them when she’d always sworn she hated them, and I got to do it while I watched as my daughter fell for Tunnel all over again.
***
Hours later, after Sienna finally settled down enough to go to bed, I was once again lying, panting.
I’d had more sex in the last day than I had in the last six years.
“How do I tell Sienna?” his voice rumbled out into the darkness.
I ran my hand down his chest, exactly like I used to do when I was deep in thought.
“I think you don’t beat around the bush,” I finally settled on. “Just tell her. She’s a smart girl. I think she’ll understand…when the time comes. Until then, keep doing what you’re doing.”
He went up onto his arms and stared into my eyes, his mouth so close to mine that I couldn’t avoid the temptation and moved until my lips brushed his.
He grinned down at me, then slowly slid his length out from inside of me.
I gasped at the empty feeling first, and then when I felt the warm liquid that started running down my cleft.
I didn’t worry, though. Now that we were at least thinking more clearly, we were a lot savvier with the fact that we needed something to catch the mess. Meaning we’d stocked up on towels and had placed them on top of the nightstand.
Before it could fully fall to the bed, he’d reached for the towel, and plastered it to my body.
I rolled with the towel as he got up and stood awkwardly by the side of the bed. He walked to the bathroom to clean up.
He came back out moments later and I traded him places, using the time in the bathroom to clean myself with some baby wipes that I’d gotten at the store earlier for just this reason.
Once I was done, I headed back out into the bedroom.
I reached for my panties that were lying next to the bedroom door and pulled them on even though I knew the second I got into that bed, he’d be ripping them right back off of me.
But as I watched him slip his socks on, and then his boots, my brows furrowed in confusion.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, tripping over my underwear and falling back on the bed.
He watched me with amusement.
“I’m getting my clothes on so I can go,” he said evenly. “Why?”
“You’re not leaving. If you leave, I’ll have to kill you.”
His eyes shone with laughter. “That’s an awful lot of smack you’re talking when you can’t even put your underwear on while on standing up.”
I flipped him off, then sat down on the bed to put my underwear on. He had a point. I was very clumsy, and I likely couldn’t even take my man with a gun…if I had one.
Once I had the panties at my knees, I stood up and slipped them the rest of the way on.
“That’s irrelevant,” I said. “There’s no reason you can’t stay here.”
He looked at the door.
“Our daughter might see, and you just said that you thought I should wait, agreeing with my earlier thoughts,” he countered. “I can’t do both. If I stay here, she might see me, and that’s not the best course of action. We agreed on that.”
I sighed.
“I have a lock on my door.”
He frowned.
“I don’t like that,” he said.