Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I’ll be right there,” she calls from somewhere in the house, but I don’t respond. Walking through to the staircase, I silently climb each step while I wait for her to appear. When I reach the landing, she still hasn’t come out of either of the rooms.
There’s a soft scent of berries coming from the bathroom I pass, and when I reach a door that’s slightly ajar, I step forward and the sight that hits me is like a fucking solo porno video. Jaz is standing there dressed in the skimpiest panties I’ve ever fucking seen. The soft pink silk hugs her pert ass cheeks and the bra cups her tits like it was painted on, and, my God, I want to peel it off.
She’s pulling her hair into a messy bun and every time her arms move up, her tits bounce. My cock is rigid steel behind my zipper. This woman is going to be my downfall. Her long legs are perched in four-inch heels that pull her calf and thigh muscles taut. Fuck, I want to wedge myself between them all fucking night.
“You enjoying the show?” Her voice cuts through the lust that’s swirling my vision and I shake my head to clear the filthy images I had playing on a loop in my head.
“Oh darling, you better believe it. How about you give me a little twirl, just to get the full effect.” I chuckle, but to my surprise, she does. On those fuck me heels she does a perfect twirl and the triangle of material covering her pussy is perfectly shaped. Her thighs are beautifully toned. Her flat stomach glints, and I realize she’s got a tiny jewel in her belly button.
Every fucking inch of her is like a heavenly doll. Perfect. As if she’s been sculpted by the hand of a master puppet maker and I want to play with her and make her body bend in deliciously dirty ways. “Fuck,” I groan and she giggles.
She walks over to the bed and takes the dress from the comforter and pulls it up her thighs until it hugs her curves. “Can you zip me up?” She glances at me and I step into the bedroom, which is all soft colors suits her perfectly. A large bookshelf along half the one wall and the other made entirely of glass, showing off the famous Hollywood sign.
“Is this where I’ll be taking this dress off later?” I question, and as I pull the zipper up, I tease the smooth skin on her back. She trembles and I can’t help smiling.
“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Officer. I don’t just allow anyone in here.” She turns and we’re almost at the same height. I’m tall so those shoes add to her possibly five foot six height.
I lean in and offer her my cocky smirk.
“You know what I think, Baby Doll? You’d like to bring me in here because you know that I’d give you more pleasure than any of your famous boys on set. Come on, let’s go.” I turn, leaving her gaping at me. Heading down the stairs, I hear her heels clicking behind me as she follows me.
Once we’re in the car, I start the engine and it roars to life. As I pull out onto the road, Jasmine wiggles and the soft pink hemline inches higher, exposing her thighs. “If you keep looking at me like that do you think we’ll get through dinner?” she quirks. My gaze snaps to her then back to the road.
“Probably not, but I wanted to prove I’m not an asshole.” She shifts again and the smooth skin on display makes my mouth water and my cock hard.
“Then take me back to my place and show me.” Her voice is low, barely a fucking whisper, and I pull onto the shoulder. Stopping the car, I turn to her.
“You’re getting a date, whether you want it or not. Who knows, we could have some fun while we’re out,” I offer and speed down the road.
Music fills the space around us, and she shifts in her seat to regard me.
“So, Officer Brawley, tell me more about you?” she asks in a light tone, but I don’t want to talk about me. I want to know about the woman who’s been stuck on my mind all day.
“Ladies first,” I quip and she giggles. It’s a soft melodic tone, one I could get used to hearing.
“Well, you know who I am. My life is all over the front pages of the tabloids every day,” something in her tone has me glancing at her. Sadness. I can’t imagine having to live like that, where everyone knows you and what happens in your life.
“That’s true, but I want to know what they don’t print,” I tell her honestly. Pulling up to the restaurant, I find a parking spot near the door and kill the engine. Turning in my seat, I regard her with a smile. When I lean in, she trembles at my nearness and I whisper in her ear. “Let’s get some dinner and you can tell me all your naughty little secrets.”