Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“I think it’s a little too late for that, babe,” he said, with a soft smile and she swallowed before shaking her head and hastily retreating from the couch, perky tits swaying with the abrupt movement. His gaze was appreciative as watched her sexy arse retreat. She picked up her dress along the way and slipped it over her head and then stood in the middle of the room, looking a bit lost.
“That door,” he said, recognizing her dilemma and pointing toward the guest bathroom door. “There’s a new wash cloth in the vanity cupboard.”
“Thanks,” she squeaked, before doing an odd little shuffling walk to the bathroom. For a second, he was befuddled by the bizarre movement before realization dawned and he felt his face heating up as well.
Oh.
Not something he’d ever considered before. Gideon had always been religious about wearing condoms. He’d have to keep a towel or something handy next time.
He pushed to his feet, tucked his demanding cock away, and retreated to his en-suite to get cleaned up too.
He hoped like hell she wouldn’t use his absence as an excuse to duck out and run before they had a chance to talk. But he couldn’t exactly sit here like this waiting for her.
He did a hasty mop up job with soap and water and changed into clean underwear and another pair of sweat pants. He dragged on an old t-shirt, ran his fingers through his hair and hastily made his way back to the living room.
The bathroom door was still shut and he could hear water splashing in the sink. Gideon felt an odd surge of satisfaction knowing she was still here.
Good.
He quickly tidied the living room, picking up the ridiculous sketches he’d drawn of her last night. He’d been so pissed off with her that some of them weren’t quite flattering. He’d sketched her as various villains, Cruella, The Wicked Witch of the West, Poison Ivy, Hella, Medusa…and in his weaker moments, he’d drawn her as he remembered her from their hot first sexual encounter over a month ago. Probably best to destroy these entirely, but for now he hastily shoved them—safely out of sight—into his desk drawer.
His eyes fell on the previously forgotten stack of plastic containers on his kitchen counter and he grunted in satisfaction.
By the time his bathroom door creaked open, and Beth shyly stepped back into the living room, Gideon had coffee percolating, a couple of plates set out, and the koesisters heated.
“I thought you might like a snack,” he said, making an awkward, sweeping gesture toward the kitchen with his arm.
“I—uhm—probably have to get home,” she said.
“Why?”
Why? Gideon’s simple question flummoxed Beth and she floundered a bit as she desperately cast about for a response.
When she finally spoke, she kept her words slow, measured, and was gratified when they came out easily. “I came over here to give you the cake I promised you and to apologize for last night.”
His gaze remained steady while he watched her. He did not seem inclined to speak, which—naturally—resulted in Beth trying to fill the silence by saying more than she’d intended to.
“The oth-other thing that happened. Just now. Was a fun mistake.”
“One we’ve made repeatedly,” he pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. “So maybe we should re-evaluate our definition of a mistake.”
“A serious lapse in judgment. That’s how I’d define a mistake.”
“And you consider what we just did a lapse in judgment?”
“Obviously. Or I wouldn’t have called it a mistake.”
He pursed his lips, seeming to consider her words.
“I have no regrets,” he said, with a little lift of his shoulder and Beth swallowed audibly.
“I didn’t say I regretted it,” she hastened to correct him. “I just don’t think we should do it again.”
“And I think we should discuss what happened.”
“It won’t happen again,” she insisted staunchly, and his eyebrows rose practically to his hairline. The left corner of his mouth tilted upward in that familiar, infuriating smirk and he leaned back until his hips were resting against the kitchen counter, arms still folded over his chest.
“I’m pretty sure we said something similar last time…yet here we are. Maybe we should stop lying to ourselves about what’s happening here and fucking deal with it.”
“Nothing is happening here,” she said, trying for sternness and failing miserably. Instead, the words emerged on a weak bleat.
He laughed. If one could call the harsh, unamused bark that blasted from his chest a laugh.
“You have the balls to say that when I was naked inside you not twenty minutes ago? I don’t know about you, Lizzy”—he sneered the name and Beth felt a pang of loss to be back to Lizzy in his eyes—“but the last time I was horny enough to go bareback with a woman was fucking never ago.”
Beth flushed at the reminder. She, too, had never had sex without a condom before. The intimacy of the act had rocked her. And even though he hadn’t lasted very long, the erotic tabooness of feeling the wet heat of all that cum overflowing out of her had been more than enough to send her careening over the edge.