Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
He fucks me without mercy, whispering dirty future promises, and it’s an all-out assault on my senses. It happens very fast, but I orgasm moments before he does. Cannon curses as he lowers me to the mattress, still grinding against my backside, his hand working the front. I’m dizzy from the strength of my release, and my clit is so sensitive as he continues to touch me, setting off more sparks of pleasure.
“One day we’ll go slow,” he promises with a chuckle as he releases my hair and presses a kiss to my neck.
“One day, I’ll complete a blow job on you,” I reply.
Cannon squeezes me before lifting from my body. He slides free, and I roll to the side to see him move into the bathroom. I pull up my panties, wondering if this is when I go home. I know he told me to bring an overnight bag but seeing what I’m pretty sure was his wife’s picture in the living room, I’m not sure. My insecurities start to rage.
I start a search for my clothes when Cannon walks out of the bathroom, now completely naked.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I nab my bra.
“Getting dressed?” I lob it as a question, because I have a feeling he’s looking for a specific answer.
“Yeah, that’s not going to work for me,” he says as he strides my way. I can’t help but let my eyes slide over his body.
When he reaches me, his hand takes hold of my braid again, and he gives it a playful tug. “There’s no handing out of orgasms and running,” he chides.
“I wasn’t sure…” My words dry up in embarrassment that I even have to guess.
“What this was?” he prompts, dipping his head to look me in my eye as my gaze dropped. “This isn’t a hookup, Ava.”
“What is it?” I ask, my brain involuntarily going to the picture of what may have been him and his wife in his living room.
“It’s not a hookup,” he repeats firmly as he releases my hair and slides his hand to the back of my neck. But all that really tells me is what it isn’t, and not what it is. “I want you to stay the night with me.”
I’m confused, there’s no doubt. First date, we had drunk sex. The second date—dinner at his house—but there was an expectation of sex. He told me to pack an overnight bag, and I did.
Yet for some reason, I feel like I should leave.
Like telling me to bring an overnight bag was nothing more than code for “I intend to fuck you, so if you don’t want that, you have an out.”
“Okay,” Cannon says with an exasperated sigh, scooping me up in his arms. I yelp from the shock as he deposits me on the bed.
He plucks my bra from my hand and tosses it over his shoulder. He jerks at the covers and forces me under them. Climbing in next to me, he holds himself up on his elbow and hovers. “Spill it. What’s got that brain of yours in a twist?”
“It’s nothing—”
“Don’t,” he says, and I’m surprised by the slight heat in his voice. “Not after what we just shared.”
Because while it was fast and frantic, it was special. I can feel it.
“It’s your wife,” I blurt out. There’s no holding it back, not after he emphasized that what we just did has meaning.
My body locks tight as I wait for his reaction. I dread that I might have pissed him off enough to kick me out of his house but instead, his expression softens.
Cannon brings a hand to my face, rubs his thumb over my cheek. “I was wondering if you knew.”
“I googled you, nosy little miscreant that I am.”
Chuckling, Cannon bends over and kisses me. “What’s bothering you about it?”
“Actually, nothing’s bothering me at all,” I rush to assure him, jerking up until I’m also on my elbow so I can look him in the eye. “It’s just… I want to be sensitive to you. I’ve never known a widower. I don’t know if you have room for something more than a hookup. And I saw what I think might have been a picture of you two in the living room.”
“Aahh.” A soft sound of understanding and empathy for me. “I imagine that could be confusing. I guess what you need to know is that Melissa died almost nine years ago. She was my first love, and honestly, she’s been my only love. But not because I hold her in a place that’s so sacred I couldn’t ever care about another. Just… she’s part of my history, and I’ll never pack her away.”
“And I’d never expect you to. I’m not threatened by it. Again, I just want to be sensitive to you. And…” My eyes drop for a moment, but I need to go into this fully honest. “I want to be sensitive to myself as well. I just came out of a relationship that did a number on my confidence. It will help me to know the parameters. To make sure I stay within expectations… both yours and mine.”