Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Throat sore, I want to get up and get a drink, but I’m tired and overall just not a morning person. I try to hold my eyes open, but they close on their own accord, and the next thing I know, Sam is back in the bedroom, opening up a dresser drawer to get socks.
“Hey,” I grumble, forcing myself up. “Do you have to go to work now?”
“I got a few minutes.”
He’s wearing black dress pants and a button-up shirt and looks fine as fuck.
“Come back to bed?” I ask and pull the covers back, inviting him next to me.
“For a minute.” He puts his socks on the dresser and crosses the room, getting back in bed with me.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I sigh, wrapping my legs around him.
“I don’t want to leave either.”
“I can have lunch with you today,” I tell him.
“It’s fine, babe. You still want to fly back to LA late tonight, don’t you?”
“I have to.”
“Stay here and rest. You need it, especially before you start traveling again.”
“Okay. I’ll miss you,” I tell him.
“I’m going to miss you too,” he says, voice thick with emotion. He runs his hand up my neck and takes a fistful of hair, pulling my head back so he can kiss me. His tongue slips past my lips and he moves on top of me, pinning me between his firm body and the mattress.
“I fucking love you, Chloe,” he breathes between kisses. Desire for him burns hot between my legs, and his big cock hardens against me. I widen my legs, welcoming him between, and reach down, blindly feeling for his belt. Knowing we don’t have much time, it’s a mad scramble to remove each other’s clothing, and Sam kisses me while he pushes his cock into my entrance.
“Mmmmm,” I groan, raking my hands up his back. He moves his lips to my neck, kissing and sucking hard.
“I love you,” he pants, pushing his cock inside me balls deep. I angle my hips up, coming just moments after he hits me at a new angle. He puts his lips to mine again as he finishes, cock pulsing inside of me. I’m too swept up in the moment to remember I haven’t taken my birth control for the last few days.
“I…I love you too,” I breathe, pussy still spasming around his big dick.
“I do, Chloe.” He holds himself up above me, breathing hard as he looks into my eyes. “So fucking much, and nothing will change that.”
“Okay,” I pant, not sure what else to say. He’s acting weird again, and I’m not sure if I should be concerned. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I have to, but I’ll be back. Take it easy today.”
“I will. And if you have extra time for lunch, let me know and I’ll meet you.” I rake my fingers down his back. He’s still wearing his button-up shirt and it’s probably all wrinkly now. “In your car for more dirty back-seat sex.”
“I’m going to be thinking about that all day.”
“Good.”
He kisses me and then forces himself up, moving off me and getting dressed again. I use the bathroom and then walk him to the door, missing him the instant he’s gone. I pull the down comforter off the bed and go onto the couch, curling up and turning the TV on. I know I’m not going to stay awake, and only make it through fifteen minutes of a show before I pass back out, sleeping for a good three hours.
I wake up all sweaty. I panic for a minute that I’m sick again, which means I’d have to cancel my flight because I refuse to be that asshole who gets on a plane with a fever, and then realize I’m directly under a heat duct and I’ve basically swaddled myself in a thick, down comforter. Bright sunlight streams through the big windows as well, warming the entire room.
Getting up, I check for texts from Sam—he sent me two simply telling me he loves and misses me—and then take a shower. I really do need to work today, and if I can’t focus to write then I at the very least need to do some social media catching up. Rebecca manages my Facebook reader group, keeping everyone active. I post a quick update and then go into my extensive meme collection, finding something funny to post later in the day. I get it all scheduled, reply to a handful of comments and questions, and then switch over to Instagram.
There’s no way I’m going to keep up with the amount of messages I received in reply to my last video of me in the hospital. I spend twenty minutes replying and then force myself up and into the shower. I twist my wet hair up into a towel and go back into the kitchen, finding a note from Sam next to the coffee pot.