Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
A few seconds passed. “Fuck. I don’t want to get off the phone with you.”
“I don’t, either. But I’ll move faster if you’re not distracting me with your sexy voice.”
“You think my voice is sexy?”
“Yes! Have I never told you that?”
“No.” He paused. “What’s sexy about it?”
“Everything. It’s so deep and gruff. You make every word sound like its dripping in chocolate.” Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, Chloe retrieved her sexiest underwear, a nightshirt, and a change of clothes from her dresser, throwing them unceremoniously into the suitcase. “Do you think my voice is sexy?”
“The sexiest. Especially when it’s shouting obscenities at the refs.” He made a low noise. “I’m going to make it sound even better, though.”
Heat rolled slowly from her nipples to her core, tightening muscles along the way. “How are you going to do that?”
“By making you scream until it’s hoarse.”
“Off topic,” she whispered, openly shaking now, her skin flushed. “I might have to spend some time with my vibrator before I call that Uber.”
“Don’t you dare, Chloe. Stay on the edge with me.”
She bit her lip until it hurt. “I can’t even see the edge anymore.”
“Keep. Packing. If I hear any buzzing, you’re in serious trouble. You wet? Good. Stay that way until I’ve got a good, rough stroke going and your legs kicking on the bed.” She heard his fist rap against the steering wheel. “Goddamn it, Chloe. I’m so hot for you. I don’t know how I’m going to walk through the lobby with my cock this hard.” His exhale was rocky. “Come take care of me, dream girl. Come get taken care of.”
“I’m coming.”
“Not yet. I mean it.”
She laughed, but it was a blustery sound. A desperate, yearning one. She tapped the screen to put the call on speakerphone, tossed it on the bed, and finished running around, adding toiletries and supplies for Pierre to her suitcase, zipping it shut, and ordering the Uber while listening to Sig’s measured breaths on the other end of the line.
“I’m out the door,” she said, leash in one hand, suitcase handle in the other.
“Okay.” He sighed. “I guess I better hang up. I don’t want you doing something inappropriate to yourself in the back of the Uber.”
“Let me tell you, it’s not that far-fetched.” She walked out of her building, spotted the black sedan rounding the corner of her block. “My car is already here.”
“Check the license plate, Chlo.”
“I am.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Thank God.”
They hung up—and after a brief argument with the driver over transporting Pierre—they were off. Ten minutes into the ride, a text from Sig came through.
Room 1125.
And somehow she knew she’d remember that number for the rest of her life.
Boston traffic must have known how badly she needed to reach Sig, because it cooperated for once, her ride taking her north toward Medford while Pierre dozed beside her in the back seat, blissfully unaware that his new owner was about to realize a dream six months in the making, even if one of her newer aspirations had just been moved outside of her reach. She didn’t want to think about it now. She just wanted to get to him, lose herself, be absorbed. Absorb him in return. Finally. Finally. They were finally going to break the rules and her body knew it was coming, turning her flesh sensitive, her nipples to peaks, her inner thighs flexed. Ready.
As soon as she pulled up to the hotel, she knew it wasn’t the type that allowed dogs.
It was way too nice.
She’d have to be creative.
“Would you happen to have a luggage cart?” she asked the bellhop while the Uber driver removed her suitcase from the trunk.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He wheeled over the cart, an eyebrow ticking up at her one, tiny piece of luggage.
“Oh, I’m so thirsty!” She tapped her throat, gave an exaggerated cough. “I think I’m . . . yes, I’m going to choke.”
“There are bottles of water in the lobby, ma’am. I’ll get one for you.”
“Thank you,” she said weakly.
When the bellhop disappeared through the automatic doors on his way into the lobby, Chloe hustled a resistant Pierre out of the Uber, groaning while lifting him onto the luggage cart and covering him quickly with her jacket while the driver shook his head in disapproval.
“There’s a thirty percent tip in it for you to keep quiet.”
“I ain’t no snitch,” he drawled, climbing back into the driver’s side.
“Sit, Pierre. Stay.” The bulldog remained perfectly stationary. “G’boy. Such a g’boy!”
The automatic doors opened and out flew the bellhop, holding a bottle of water out to Chloe, which she took and sipped while squeezing his forearm gratefully. “Thank you! Oh my goodness, that’s so much better.”
He nodded. “Would you like me to take the cart to your room?”
“Oh no, I always wheel my own luggage.” She took a twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet and pushed it into his hands. “It’s a habit of mine. I’ll take it myself.”