Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I’m not making this slow and playful. I want to suck his cock and make him come, and I get right to work. He leans back against the door, keeping it shut, as I take him into my mouth and glide my tongue around his head, going deeper and deeper. He moans, those delicious noises, clearly not giving a fuck if anyone hears, and it only makes me want him more. That freaking confidence, that desire. The way he wants me is intoxicating.
I suck him faster, stroking with both hands, as he grips my hair. Suddenly, the door bumps as if someone’s trying to shove it open. “Closed for cleaning,” he barks at whoever’s on the other side. I pause, his dick in my mouth, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Doesn’t fucking sound like it,” someone says from the other side.
“Fuck off, it’s closed,” Brody growls and slowly pushes me down his shaft. I whimper and get back to work, sucking him twice as fast, my heart racing. If our friend out in the hall says anything else, I can’t hear over the sound of my spit on Brody’s cock, and it doesn’t take long before the taste of his cum floods my mouth.
I swallow every drop. He pulls me to my feet and kisses me. “Good fucking girl,” he praises as he buckles his belt back up.
The older man from the cafe’s waiting near the vending machine. He gives us a pervy grin, waggling his eyebrows, and Brody puts an arm over my shoulder to shield me from the weirdo. We walk out together, and as soon as we’re on the sidewalk, I burst into laughter, and he cracks up along with me.
Chapter 30
Brody
My mind’s on Elena at three in the morning outside of an old abandoned liquor store deep in the south side. It’s warm and muggy outside, and Seamus has been complaining all night about boredom.
I’m only half listening to my brother. I keep thinking about Elena on her knees in that bathroom and the way she took charge of me, sucking my cock like she lived for it, and how she didn’t stop when that old guy basically caught us. There’s mischief in that girl and I like it.
There’s also beauty, and poise, and intelligence, and fuck, I feel myself spiraling every day. This obsession keeps on growing, and every time I think I’m about to get over it and let go of this dumb little crush I have for my pretty new wife, my feelings deepen instead.
Until here I am, smitten, like an absolute fucking idiot.
“There’s movement,” Seamus says. He hunkers down slightly and nods toward the dimly lit building. There’s a tall fence around the squat beige structure. The stucco’s breaking off in spots and ancient advertisements for liquor brands that don’t exist anymore are peeling from what’s left of the windows. Two figures come out a side door and look like they’re arguing as they approach the perimeter fence.
Neither of us moves. The first guy is tall and dark-skinned with a head full of curly black hair. The other is smaller and slimmer with baggy jeans he keeps on hiking over his hips. The big guy holds back an opening in the fence and lets the smaller guy through before following, and the pair of them keeps up their argument as they walk on down the sidewalk together, gesturing in the air.
I nod at Seamus. He checks his pistol before getting out of the car. I follow him, touching my trusty revolver. We cut down a side alley onto the adjoining block and run together to the corner, going fast. I’m winded when we reach it and we stop together in the shadow of a pet food store, the metal grates down over the door and the windows, the awning rolled back.
Voices drift up as they come closer. “…told you it was gonna be a slow fucking night,” one man says.
“And I told you, we were assigned to this shithole, and that’s what we had to do.”
“Come on, Kramer,” the first one whines. “We’ve been good soldiers, right? Doing all we gotta do? You’d think Santoro would throw us a fucking bone.”
“Don’t use his name,” the other voice snaps. Then a little softer, he says, “But you’re right. He’ll do good by us soon. I know it.”
I nod at Seamus. He’s behind me, and he nods back, his gun drawn and cocked. We don’t find out what the other voice thinks about that confidence because I come around the corner, drop to one knee, and aim my gun at the tall guy’s chest.
He comes to a scrambling halt, eyes going wide, and his hand twitches toward his waistband before Seamus comes up behind me, standing, gun aimed at the shorter gentleman.
“I’d stay very still if I were you two,” I say as smoothly as I can.