Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 888(@200wpm)___ 711(@250wpm)___ 592(@300wpm)
“Gavin, I’m glad you’re here. I was about to order Casey off the premises,” Michelle says, and I can feel her gaze on me, but I ignore it. I’m focusing on the red-haired beauty in front of me. I may have underestimated how perfect her lips were before. I wonder how they’d feel if I ran my tongue along them. I’m sure she’d be sweet…
Would she taste like cherries or peaches?
“I’ve always known who you are Gavin. You’re the one who never knew me,” she answers and something about the way she words her reply intrigues and bothers me at the same time. I watch as her tongue comes out and runs nervously along the bottom of her lip. She bites into the corner of the tempting morsel, worrying her lip while inadvertently making it swell. Would my dick have the same effect on her if I pushed it in her mouth hard and forceful?
Fuck!
I bet she tastes like strawberries. Tart, sweet and bursting with flavor on the first bite…
“Gavin? Should I have security take over with Casey, while we discuss your needs for the next scene?” Michelle asks.
“Casey. It’s a pretty name,” I reply, but I’m talking directly to the redhead who has no idea the amount of torture her mouth is putting me through.
“It’s always been the same,” she shrugs. “Anyway, I’m out of here,” she says, turning back around to leave.
“Wait up…Casey. Aren’t you supposed to do my makeup?” I ask, taking the few steps to get to her rather quickly.
“Gavin, honestly—”
“Michelle, nice seeing you again. Casey and I are old high school buddies. We were only kidding around. I’m delighted she’s here! Great hire. I’ll be sure to tell Edwin about your great eye for talent,” I call over my shoulder, naming the man that Michelle reports to. I see Casey’s eyes dilate slightly.
“You really are smooth,” she laughs.
“All over. You want to feel?” I ask her, only half joking.
“Uh…I think I’ll pass.”
“You shouldn’t fight it, eventually you’ll give in.”
“You’re unbelievable,” she laughs.
“If I had a dollar for every time a woman said that to me,” I grin at her.
“You do realize that I’m still pissed off at you for walking into me again, right? That’s not even mentioning the fact you almost got me fired?”
“I realize you want to be pissed off, but I don’t think you are.”
“Seriously?” she argues, as we make our way to the small room, where I assume she works because there’s a table, mirror and lots of makeup everywhere. It seemed a safe assumption, until she walked into an even smaller room that’s connected. I start to follow her, but before I can she looks over her shoulder and her gaze pins me. “Do not follow me.”
“Afraid to be alone with me in tight spaces?” I joke, giving her a leering look, that wasn’t hard to fabricate since her wet shirt is molded to the large globes of her tits. It should be illegal for a woman to be that stacked.
“With the way you’ve tried to kill me twice today? You bet your ass,” she says, shaking her head. I stand off to the side, not following her, but standing so I can still see her, too. She yanks her shirt over her head. I fight a whimper from escaping—a mournful whimper, because all I can see from this angle is her back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful back. It’s sun-kissed, delicate, smooth and definitely looks soft to the touch. If she would turn around however, I know I’d see those tits and that image would sustain me the rest of my life. Or at least until the next woman came along.
She turns a little to the side and I can see a glimpse of round, creamy flesh through pale lavender lace, I can’t help but think she might stay with me a little longer than the women before her. That could be trouble.
“Words hurt, Moth-girl,” I joke, which was probably another mistake because she turns, yanking her new t-shirt down and hides her boobs from me—which is cause for immediate sadness.
“Were you watching me change?” she asks in disbelief.
“I had to make sure you didn’t get burned.”
“I told you the coffee was cold.”
“I had to make sure. I couldn’t have lived with the guilt if you were lying, all because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
“I don’t really know what to say to that,” she says, shaking her head.
“It’s okay. I barely saw your tit.”
“Oh my God,” she gasps.
“And there was no nipple action.”
“Nipple action?”
“Yeah, which was disappointing,” I tell her, walking towards her.
“Disappointing?” she asks, her eyes going wide.
“Yeah, because now I can’t help but wonder if your nipples are brown or pink,” I tell her the God’s honest truth.
“Did you really just say that to me?” she laughs.