Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“We didn’t see nothin’.” Paul speaks for both of them before they take off on their bikes down the street.
“What did they do at the skatepark?” Vincent asks.
“I have no clue.” I laugh. “They’re always over there, so I’m sure at times they get up to something they shouldn’t.” I shrug my shoulders.
Vincent shakes his head and lets out one of his deep chuckles. Even his laughs turn me on.
“The more time I spend here, the more I want to stay,” Vincent drawls. A spark of hope blooms inside my chest. I snuff it out. How does he keep doing that? Getting these sparks to light up inside of me.
“You wouldn’t get bored? Thought you were always after that adrenaline rush.”
He takes my hand and turns us back around to start heading back toward home. “Life changes, and with that, the things you want in it change.” I swallow, trying not to read too much into that. “Your brother took off, and your mom is napping,” Vincent points out as we draw closer to the house. “I remember someone agreeing that I got a taste whenever I wanted. And I could use a snack.”
“Vincent.” I elbow him in the side.
“You enjoyed every second of last night. Told you I’m a quick learner.”
“You’re so full of it.” I roll my eyes. I find it hard to believe that was the first time Vincent went down on a girl, but I find it even harder to believe that he’d lie.
“And soon you’ll be full of me.” He gives me a gentle elbow back. I know he’s only teasing me back, but my sex clenches as I grow wet between my thighs. Still, I burst into laughter at his corny comeback, realizing what Vincent has done. Only a few minutes with him and my mood has changed. I’ve never really had anyone that’s been able to soothe me the way he does. Or maybe it’s that no one ever made the effort to do it.
I’m starting to think Vincent could be more than a fling. Hell, he could be my perfect match. If he doesn’t break my heart. If he does, I’ll have to break his face.
CHAPTER 15
VINCENT
The house is quiet when we get back. I can hear Emma’s breath, slightly uneven as if she ran back instead of walked. Her hand twitches in my grasp. She’s nervous.
“Upstairs or downstairs?” I ask, letting her make at least one decision before I get her into a bedroom. She presses her lips together and gives me an uncertain glance. I smile and give her a slow, hard kiss. “You leave it to me, baby.”
I scoop her up and carry her down the stairs. “While it’s exceptionally dirty for me to fuck you in your girlhood bed, I don’t relish getting interrupted, so we’re going to play down here.” I set her on the bed and roll her socks off.
She wiggles her toes. “Have a foot fetish?”
I massage the balls of her feet and watch as her eyes roll back. The smile drops off her face, and she moans lightly. “Never mind. I think I have the foot fetish. Don’t stop.”
“If I keep rubbing your foot, I can’t kiss your pussy.”
“I thought fighter pilots were talented at doing more than one thing at one time. Biscuit always brags about how you’ve got eyes on the back of your head.”
“Maybe, but I’ve only got two hands and one mouth.” I set her foot down and move to her shirt. “And my hands and mouth want to kiss your tits. Arms up.”
Her immediate obedience sends a thrill down my spine. I’m so fucking hard right now I could pound a rivet into the side of my plane with my cock. “Hand on my dick, baby. Please,” I add the last bit to show I can be nice even though my mind is empty of basically everything but tits, tits, and pussy.
“God, you’re huge,” she breathes as her hand molds around the bulge in my jeans.
I back off immediately and turn around so I can’t see her anymore, and she can’t touch me.
“Hey, I just started,” she says.
“Yeah, well, it’s going to be over in about five seconds if you continue.” I stare at the ceiling, crack my neck a couple of times, and wait until the urge to ram into her until I’m blind subsides. Flight jockeys aren’t known for their hand-eye coordination but situational awareness and massive self-control. When I feel like I’m not going to explode with the simplest touch, I turn back. Emma’s sitting cross-legged with her luscious tits free. I push her back to the mattress and cup her globes, moving from one nipple to the other until both nubs are hard and pointed.
She trembles and wraps her legs around my torso, raising her hips to find relief. “Oh, Vincent, please.”