Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I sat back on my heels and looked down at her, sprawled on the bed. We had a flight to catch later, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to leave. I couldn’t even think past this moment. Past her naked body with her arms over her head, unabashedly beautiful, and a smirk on her lips.
“What? You couldn’t get used to this?”
I pressed my hands into her wrists, applying pressure to hold her in place as I ran my cock against the slit between her legs. She groaned, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Look at me, pixie.”
Her eyes snapped open. The hazel nearly as green as mine in the morning sunlight. They said eyes were the window to the soul, but Whitley’s were usually so hidden that even I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. But not this morning.
This morning there was a challenge in her eyes. A look that said, I dare you.
My cock lengthened at that look. I released her just long enough to slide a condom on before returning to the position we’d been holding. Then, I slipped inside of her. She kept her eyes focused on me, even as we both panted and groaned. It wasn’t until I brought her fully to climax that her eyes snapped shut and she trembled from head to toe.
We both released our breaths at the same time. She gave me a satisfied smile as I slid out of her.
“You’re right,” she finally said. “I could get used to that.”
I laughed in a self-satisfied way and then hoisted her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
Without explanation, I carried her into the bathroom. I set her on her feet in the shower and turned the water to steaming. After discarding the condom, I joined her.
“I could have walked. It was a handful of feet.” She grumbled something under her breath that sounded like barbarian.
“Barbarian, huh?” I asked with a laugh. “That’s a new one.”
“I’m not used to being manhandled.”
“Pretty sure that’s not true.” I reached for the soap.
“Fine. I’m out of practice then. Women have much better manners.”
I snorted. “I have manners.”
“You just carried me into the bathroom like a Neanderthal.”
“And then? I wanted to get you clean. That sounds like manners.”
She made a noise of dissent, but it was half-hearted. I didn’t think that she actually cared. She was just making a fuss.
Once she was all lathered up, I gave her the spray of water and went to soap up myself. I was almost done when she took the soap from me and worked on my back. I wanted to fall to my knees for her right there. I didn’t know what it was about that simple gesture, but it did me in. Intimate, but not sexual, and I was a goner.
I cleared my throat when she stepped back, trying to cover the fact that my cock was lengthening again. Which was nearly impossible since we were both naked in the shower.
She snickered at me, shaking her head. “Again? You just came twice!”
“You’re naked in the shower with me. What did you expect?”
I reached for her, and she stepped into the spray. She was so short that I had to bend down to press my lips to hers. I could have taken her right there, slippery wet and somehow still horny. But I enjoyed the thrill of her tongue darting into my mouth and her soft, pouty lips against mine.
Whitley reached behind me and turned the water off with a smirk. She stepped out of the shower, handing me a towel. We both dried off, and she’d already thrown on panties and an oversize T-shirt by the time I was calm enough to come out of the bathroom again. If she thought that was going to help, she was sorely mistaken.
“Jesus, you’re sexy,” I said, crashing into her and knocking her back on the bed. Our mouths moved together again, and I pulled her on top of me. She leaned against my chest and ran her fingers along my collarbone.
“You’re insatiable.”
“Would you rather we talk about this?”
She froze. Her gaze flickered to mine. Whitley never wanted to talk about anything. Everything was easier if it was a joke or a game or sex. Those things she could handle, but real conversation made her run in the opposite direction. That was why I’d hatched this elaborate plan to get her here rather than just ask her to be my actual date.
“Talk about what?” she asked hesitantly.
“This. Us.”
She pulled back, rolling off of me. “I don’t know what there is to talk about.”
I came to my elbows. “Well, we could start with why you ran away three years ago and end with you being here as the perfect date, who my entire family loves.”
She swallowed hard. “Do we have to complicate things, Gavin?”