Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
“It was good,” I said, nonchalant. “Sarah’s really nice, it was nice of her to host so many people at her parents’ place.”
And Mr. Martin shot me a glance then, eyebrows halfway up his forehead.
“Sarah Jones, nice?” he said dryly. “Go figure, even hell froze over.”
Oh shit, had I said something wrong? How much did Rob know about the woman’s lifestyle? But I scolded myself, telling my heart to calm down. Keep it steady, keep it lighthearted, I reminded myself. Assume Mr. Martin doesn’t know anything, you’re just a guest in his house for Thanksgiving.
So I just nodded again.
“Yeah, really nice,” I chirped, a little too cheery. “Really friendly.”
And the big man lifted an eyebrow again, his hand pulling out cutlery from a drawer.
“Oh really?” he asked, amused. “And was her boyfriend there?”
My heart seized in my chest. Oh shit, Sarah had a boyfriend? After everything I’d seen last night, Jonah on his knees, crying as she smashed her pussy into his face, the blonde had a boyfriend? Which one of the men had it been? Did she have his permission to do this? Had they struck some kind of deal where they could see other people? So I began babbling madly, stumbling over my words.
“Yeah, yeah, I met him,” I said, voice going at a million miles an hour. “He was there, really nice too, a really, super nice guy,” I said, nodding furiously. “I hope I get to see them again.”
And Mr. Martin paused again, this time switching off the stove and turning to look at me. Those blue eyes were so knowing, so dominating, and god, but he was gorgeous even with an apron on, the feminine wear emphasizing his broad frame, the wide shoulders and strong arms.
“Ally,” he said, voice silky. “Sarah doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
And I choked, my voice coming to a halt.
“Maybe I was wrong,” I said hurriedly. “Maybe it was someone else’s boyfriend and I got mixed up, there were so many people there, it was really dark.”
And Mr. Martin shook his head again.
“No, Ally, you weren’t mixed up, you’re just not quite as perceptive as you think,” he said again, that voice dangerously soft, eyes boring into mine.
And my heart pounded in my chest, breath coming rapidly.
“You’re right,” I babbled. “There were so many people at the party and I was drinking, I know I shouldn’t have been because I’m not twenty-one, but it was just some light stuff to get me buzzed, nothing else.”
But Mr. Martin was taking off the apron now, his big hands deft as he folded the cloth neatly and placed it on the counter.
“No, Ally,” he said softly, this time stepping closer to me. The air in my lungs froze, pulse beating wildly as he came closer once more. “What I mean is that you think you know what you’re doing … but you don’t.”
And at that, my heart almost burst through my chest, wildly pounding. Oh my god, could it be? No, it couldn’t, he’d been reading something in his office last night, hadn’t looked up even once. Oh god, oh god, what was next? He couldn’t possibly be referring to my midnight show, could he?
But those blue eyes were knowing, looking me up and down as he rounded the kitchen counter.
“Ally, I saw everything,” he confirmed silkily, blue eyes blazing into mine. “Because look what I have,” he said, and reaching into his pocket, the big man pulled out my panties. I gasped, inhaling sharply, staring at the pink cotton. Oh god, they were so tiny in that big fist and as he unclenched his fingers, the aroma of my pussy filled the air, musky, heated, enveloping us, my panties giving away the secret I could no longer deny.
“Mr. Martin,” I whispered. “I know what I did and I- I’m so sorry,” I stuttered.
At that, a gleam came into his eye.
“Really? So sorry?” he asked. “Why?”
And to my shame, my body began juicing again, so aroused at his nearness, the alpha male now only mere feet away from me. How could this be happening? My boyfriend’s dad saw my pussy last night, caught me touching myself outside his office, and yet I was turned on? Oh god, I flushed again, shamefaced yet aroused, wanting more, wanting to see where this would go.
“I-I apologize,” I stammered breathily, “Because I’m a guest in your house and I shouldn’t have been doing that. And … and you’re my boyfriend’s dad!” I finished with a mewl.
With that a look of knowing came into his eyes.
“Naw, don’t worry about Jonah,” he said casually. “My boy’s got some growing up to do and he’s nowhere near what a man should be. Even if he is my son,” he said, eyes darkening momentarily. But then that blue gaze caught me again, and my body shivered with heat, coming alive with energy, a sizzling sensation burning in my pussy. “Besides, I love house guests, especially when they’re beautiful females.”