Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Leaning down again a little so he can reach.
“But?” he whispers, giving me every chance to have an out of this situation if I want.
But there’s nothing I want more right now. Dad and his house be damned.
When is a girl like me ever gonna get a chance like this with a guy like Brandon?
“But… Oh, don’t do this, Brandon. You know how I feel. Don’t you?” I plead with him, begging him with my eyes to put me out of my misery.
He growls low again, and pressing his warm lips tenderly against my hand, he asks me, “Does it feel like this?”
I feel my whole body jerk at the feeling of his mouth on my fingers.
The heat from his soft lips against the cold on my fingers makes it feel like the best kind of burn possible.
I make a little mewing sound. My head is pumping a yes.
My eyes are nearly rolling back in my head by the time he asks me just one last time.
“Do you really want me, May? Do you want this?” he asks, making me moan loudly as he brings my hand down from his lips.
Pressing it gently against his stiff erection. My reflex is to trace his outline through his jeans with my hand.
Forgetting all about hot coffee, burns, and even forgetting all about my dad and his house.
“Yes.” I rasp. “Yes, I want you…,” I finally manage to get out.
“Then c’mere,” he growls.
Leaning down further and taking my face in his palm, I shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over mine means neither of us will ever have to ask that question again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brandon
Without thinking and trying to remind myself to take it slow like I said I would, I lift May up and set her sweet behind the kitchen bench.
Both her soft, thick thighs are on either side of me as I kiss her like I’ve wanted to for months.
Whatever apprehension she had seems to disappear with each movement of our mouths until both our tongues lock.
My hands are finally given silent permission to start to explore that voluptuous chest of hers too. I make her purr and moan like I always dreamt she would.
Her hands are moving down to my cock again, gripping and squeezing my swollen helm through the denim.
But she’s far from being mine just yet. And I’ve already broken my own rules about treading carefully with May, let alone the other unspoken rule between friends like Steve:
Thou shalt not fuck my best friend’s daughter.
But I want a lot more than just May’s body.
I want more than just her tight little pussy stretching over my aching cock as I fill her with my seed. I want all of her, and for longer than this one kiss.
For longer than any marathon sex session, too.
I want her to be the mother of my children. And I want to give her a home where she can do whatever she wants. And buy whatever she wants, I mean the two of us doing just what we’re doing now, but forever.
Feeling she needs a breath, I loosen my grip on her as she pulls back slowly.
The smile on her face and the color back in her round cheeks tell me everything.
But her words confuse me.
“Woah!” she exclaims, breathless and shivering. May places her hands flat on my chest, and I flex at her touch.
Puffing a long breath out and widening her eyes, I can tell I’m moving way too fast for her.
“Too much?” I ask, half chuckling when she giggles a yes, but almost kicking myself too.
Slow means slow, B. Not shoving your tongue down her throat as soon as Steve’s outta the house…Jesus.
But noticing my look, May’s quick to grip my jacket again, and pull me closer for a quick peck, she explains herself.
“I mean… I want this… I want you, Brandon, I do.” she says, “I really do. Just…,” she trails off, but I finish her sentence for her.
Speaking my own mind, too, in a way.
“Just not as soon as I’ve walked in the door and you’re Dad’s just gone out?” I venture.
Her expression and body relax. “Exactly!” she says, but then her expression changes again.
Worried.
“I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on or anything,” she says assertively.
“I just…I just need some air,” she finally gets out. Her face is a mixture of a dozen emotions, and all of them good.
I think.
I lift her down from the bench, noticing how light she is. Making a mental note to make sure she starts eating more.
But instead of opening a window or going outside for air, May starts to pace the kitchen, biting her thumbnail.
I’m happy to watch her do anything, and all day if needed.
As long as I know she wants me and that she hasn’t screamed and run a mile now she knows how I feel about her, I’m happy.