Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Her eyebrows shoot up. “So… it’s base.”
“Base?”
“Yeah. You know. When you’re a kid and you’re playing tag, or whatever. And you have a base. A safe zone.”
I look over at the bed. It’s not made, but the sheets really are clean. Then I look back at her. “Yep. That’s what it is. The safe zone.”
“OK. So here’s how we’re going to handle this whole sex thing.”
I have to cover my mouth to hide my grin.
“Are you paying attention?”
“It is undivided.”
“I’m not taking my clothes off.”
“It might be hard to have sex if you won’t do that.”
That eyebrow shoots up again. “You’ve never had sex with your clothes on?”
I think back, searching for a time, then shrug. “Nope.”
“You’ve never had alley sex?”
“Alley sex? Like, outside a club or something?”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
“Wow. Really?”
“But you’ve had alley sex?”
“No. I’m a prude. That’s why I’m keeping my clothes on.”
I guffaw. “So… why are you asking me about alley sex?”
“Because that’s the number one way in which people have sex with clothes on. A quickie in the alley. It could be a bathroom. You’ve never had sex in a bathroom?”
“In a club?”
“Or a Starbucks.”
“Have you had sex in a Starbucks bathroom?”
“No. Again, I am a prude.”
I lean in to her, place my hands on her hips, and look down into her eyes. Wow. They are a very pretty shade of green. “I think I get where you’re going.”
“You do?” She looks almost as delighted about me catching on as she did for the prospect of non-stop TV porn.
“You are better than this place.”
She winces. “I don’t mean to be a princess, Ryet. I’m not a princess. But I’m having trouble reconciling my naked body in this room.”
“Got it. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” My hands slip up a few inches, find the bottom button on her coat, and pop it open. I’m looking her in the eyes when I do this, and she’s holding her breath. I continue unbuttoning my way up her front, and when I get to the top, I ease the coat over her shoulders and down her arms.
I do not let it touch the floor and when she realizes I’m going to hang it up in the closet, she lets that breath out.
I turn back to her, studying her now that I can see more. She’s wearing a sage-green, long-sleeve thermal shirt that totally sets off her eyes. It clings to her body, revealing an hourglass figure that was well hidden under the quilted flannel lumberjack coat.
She is a confident woman, but my full attention makes her squirm a little. “Now what?”
“Now…” I walk over to her and in one swift movement, I pick her up, walk over to the bed, and set her down on her back. Keeping hold of her legs and positioning myself between them.
Her mouth is open in surprise, her eyes wide, but she doesn’t say anything. She has no quick-witted comeback for this move.
“Now I’m gonna take your boots off.”
She nods a little. “OK.”
I push one leg back, unlace her boot—which isn’t a winter boot, but a work boot—and ease it off her foot, revealing a wool sock. I take that off too, revealing a pink foot. She watches me do this, biting her lip.
She’s probably ticklish. But I don’t tickle her. That is a bit of discovery I would like to save for later.
I repeat this with the other boot and sock, and then I pause.
“Now what?”
“I’m working out the particulars of how to keep your clothes on for this next part.”
“Have you come up with a solution?”
“I have.”
She’s breathing harder now. “I’m ready to hear it.”
I shoot her a sideways smile. It’s a new one—for her, anyway—and she’s not quite sure what it means. But as she’s thinking it over, my fingers have found the button on her jeans and it’s already been popped open. So she doesn’t catch up with me until I’m dragging the zipper down. “Stop here? Or keep going?”
“Please.” Her voice is huskier now. “If I wanted to stop you, Ryet, you would be stopped.”
I grin. “Are you a badass, Syrsee?” I already know the answer to this. And it is a definite yes. She’s probably some kind of martial arts expert. Or a knife-thrower. If I could die, I’m a hundred percent certain that she would be able to kill me.
“First dates are for fucking, Ryet. Conversation is for date number two.”
I laugh out loud. She laughs too. So she’s caught off guard when I pull her jeans and panties down her legs, hike her knees up in the air, and kneel down, sliding my head between them.
I am licking her before she even knows what’s happening. My tongue sweeping between her folds. My breath hot on her inner thighs.
She moans a little and arches her back when I slowly slip a finger inside her. Then her hands are on the side of my head, gripping my hair as I sweep my tongue over her sweetest spots.