Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
My sister asked me to take a drink to Frost. He’d only just gotten there, and I’d been in the kitchen cooking. When I walked into the living room, his eyes locked with mine. I could see the irritation that was on his face slip away and a smirk form on his lips. I’d initially thought he wanted into my pants and that he was being charming to get lucky. I’m still not sure what the hell he wants, but if it’s getting into my pants, he’s getting it.
When I watch us in the mirror, I see my face is flushed, but there’s something else there in my eyes. For the first time in my life, I feel sexy. Not cute or adorable like people often say, but sexy and powerful.
Frost devours me, and I look down so I can watch him make me cum. Another orgasm pushes down on me, and I hear him groan like he’s getting as much pleasure as I am. The sound of his groan sends me over the edge, and I cry out his name.
The pleasure hums through my body, and I can’t do anything but lie back and let it happen. My whole body goes lax as Frost lifts me into his arms. He carries me into my bedroom and lays me down.
I open my eyes to look up at him, but he didn't turn on the light. Thankfully, the moonlight coming through my window is enough to light up my room and I can see him clearly.
He stares at me for a long moment. I came twice, and seeing him over me like this, I still want more. I even want to do something to him. It’s unfair that I’m naked and he’s got all his clothes on. I want to know what he looks like under all the suits he wears, and I want his naked body against mine.
He starts to say something, but the sound of the garage door opening gets our attention. My mom and dad are home.
* * *
Russian words spill from his lips, and then those lips are on mine a moment later. The kiss is hard, and I can feel that he’s telling me this is far from over.
I watch as he goes over to my window and opens it. “Sleep, kiska. You don’t have many more nights here.”
Then he’s gone out my window. I jump up from my bed and rush over to look out, but I don’t see him anywhere. I close the window and lock it as an empty feeling settles in my chest.
Mom calls my name, and I rush into bed, pulling the covers over me. A few moments later I hear my door open, but I keep my eyes closed. It closes quickly, and I let out a sigh of relief. We could have been caught…why does the thrill of that turn me on?
It’s Frost. Everything always goes back to him. He’s starting to own parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get them back.
Chapter 8
Frost
“More coffee?” Cookie’s mother Rose asks, and I nod.
“Da, please.” Her father Winter is on the other side of the table eating some of the treats I brought them this morning.
“I think the cinnamon ones are my favorite,” he decides but then takes another bite of the maple.
“Next time we will have to drive to the other side of town.” I lean in close as if we are sharing a secret. “I hear they have a blueberry cheesecake.”
“Don’t tease me, son,” he laughs, but when he calls me son, something in my chest tightens.
I’m close with Cookie’s family because of Miller and Pumpkin. I’m especially close with her father Winter because of our shared love of donut holes. He’s got a sweet tooth almost as big as mine, but the fun has been in exploring places that specialize in them.
If Cookie were not in the picture, I would still want to spend time with her family. The fact that they are her parents is an added bonus. My only worry is that they may realize that I’m not good enough for her, and I wouldn’t blame them. I worry I’m not good enough for her either.
I hear her coming down the stairs, and my heart warms. Just being in her home surrounded by those that love her makes me feel better. But seeing her is like taking a breath of fresh air after being in a coal mine all day.
Her messy hair is piled on top of her head, and she’s in an old ratty bathrobe. I smile as I sit at the table and wait for her to see me.
“Morning,” she yawns as she walks over to the coffee pot. “I’ve got the worst gas.”
I smother a burst of laughter when she spins around and faces me with a look of horror on her face.