Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I reach down and unzip, fisting myself. The rays of the early morning sun would kiss her skin. I’d lift her on top of me so I could watch while her pussy swallowed my shaft. I could suck on her tits and work her nipples until they were diamond hard. Maybe I’d have her stand at the edge of the bed while I pounded her from behind. There are a lot of options. But these are only fantasies. They aren’t ever coming true.
Disgusted, I shove my dick away and zip up. I won’t be able to sleep tonight so I go down to the basement—the real reason I bought the house.
It’s not a basement but more like a cavern. Dug deep into the earth, the lowest level of the house has fifteen-foot ceilings, a hot spring spa, and a lap pool. On the east side, under my bedroom, is my workshop. I sculpt down here using metal, marble, plaster and clay. My current project is a commission for the Tate and it’s due in three weeks, but all I’ve gotten is a metal frame. I circle the ten-foot-tall structure and then pick up my blowtorch and start welding. When I work, I usually lose track of time. The heat and sparks and sound of the fire pouring out of the torch are all that fill my head.
Only not tonight. Tonight, all I can see is Summer—her beautiful face with the soft curve of her cheek and the gentle slope of her nose. Her lips are full and her chin stubborn. It’s a mouth made for kissing or maybe for wrapping around my cock. The metal morphs and shifts under my hands until the night turns into dawn. Stiffness in my hands puts an end to my session. I look up at the wall clock to see that it’s six in the morning.
I pull out my phone and check the kitchen monitor. Sure enough, Summer is awake. Her hair is mussed and her eyes are heavy lidded, sleep still clinging to her. “Go back to bed, for God’s sake,” I bark into the speaker.
She slaps a hand over her heart in shock and slumps against the counter. “W-where are you?”
“In my workshop.”
“Can you stop scaring me? Come and speak to me like a normal person.” She straightens and juts out that stubborn chin. The blood in my veins turns hot. I want to devour her, just eat her up from head to toe and back again.
“That’s your first mistake.”
“What is?”
“Thinking that I’m a normal person.”
8
Summer
“Careful,” I tell Colby when his remote control car runs into one of the bookcases. The last thing I need is for one of us to break something. Who knows how Mr. Grumpy Pants will react?
“Sorry,” he says before he turns the car and it takes off in the other direction.
“If you’re done, put those back in the same place you got them.” I point to the few books he’s pulled off the shelves. When we first walked into the library I told him not to touch anything. I’d been speechless for a few moments as I took it all in. I had stood there in awe.
It’s a dream room pulled straight from a fairy tale. Every inch of the room is covered in books. The room is filled with the smell of them. I got lost for a second in my thoughts of lounging around reading each and every one of them. But I know that won’t be a reality for me, considering this is one of the rooms that’s off limits unless it’s during my cleaning hours.
Colby muttered that he was going to have to update his map to include this room. What’s so impressive is that it’s a two-story library. The ceiling reaches over fifty feet high so you can see up to the next level. The only way up is a winding staircase. One I’ve only ever seen in a movie before. It is so breathtaking I am scared I’m going to mess something up.
As I walked past the books, cleaning the shelves around them, I couldn’t help but finger through the titles. It felt as if it would be a waste to not enjoy the books inside of here. I picked two for myself. I’m not sure if I’ll get a chance to read them, but I’ll enjoy knowing they are there if I get the opportunity. I let Colby do the same. He laid down on one of the chaises and dug right in until he got restless and needed to burn off energy.
He runs over, doing as I ask before going back to his remote car. I pull my phone out, hitting play on the music button since Colby isn't reading anymore, and get back to cleaning. He gives me a funny look when I start dancing, but I see the whisper of a smile on his lips. I don’t stop wiping the shelves and dancing as I go. Work doesn’t always have to feel like it’s work. Having a little fun while getting the job done never hurt anyone.