Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“Oh, go—”
I smell my multiple arousals on Caleb’s hand when it shoots up to clamp my mouth. “Nothing we’re doing is saintly, Jessie, so why don’t you think of something more original than that.” He sounds annoyed, but the brutal jerks of his hips don’t fill me with worry. He fucks me like an animal, demanding the attention of every inch of my body and getting it.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I groan into his hand when the unrelenting thrusts of his hips force me down the quick route to hysteria.
“That’s more like it,” Caleb grunts between big frantic pumps.
He widens the gap between his fingers when his powerful rams have my nostrils flaring for air. I can’t breathe with the weight of his body on mine, I also can’t move, but I feel as free as a bird when it first leaves the nest.
Unrestrained and optimistic.
He pumps into me over and over again, pinning me to the kitchen table like my grandmother wished she could have when I visited Ambergris Caye last year. I could have stayed, but that was the coward’s way out, so instead, I told her I’d be back before returning to Portland like Warren’s presence didn’t haunt every shadow. Her teachings saw me moving to Seattle only a month after I returned home.
“Fuck… you feel so good.” Caleb’s words dig me out of the trench for the second time tonight.
Pleasure roars through me, melting my defenses as well as Caleb’s hand does when he shoves it between the table and my ass to lift me off the battered wood. He enters me deeper now, and every ram has the rim of his fat cock massaging the tender spot inside me.
“Oh…” Recalling Caleb’s earlier confession that we’re far from pious, I bite on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood before throwing my head back and giving into the sensation overwhelming me.
“Yes, Jessie,” Caleb murmurs through a grunt when I let go of both him and the weight attempting to hold my head under water.
I shout his brilliance into the humid night air before he grips my ass so firmly, I’m certain he’ll leave a mark, then he moans my name while his cock throbs through the throes of ecstasy.
It takes several long seconds for his shudders to lessen before he lays me back onto the table, withdraws his still throbbing cock, then takes a staggering step backward. “Jesu—”
“Nu-uh,” I interrupt, my one word incapable of hiding my breathless state. “Not in this house. Not from you.” I swallow to offer some relief to my scorching throat before adding, “And certainly not after we’ve done that.”
I sit up. It is no easy feat with how exhausted my body is, but I manage—somewhat.
When my wobbly movements double the cocky gleam in Caleb’s lust-hardened eyes, I attempt to chop it down to a manageable size before it becomes unmanageable. “You know the way out, right? Our floor plans match, so I don’t see you facing too many issues.”
The width of his eyes double as a spark of annoyance flares through them. “What?” He points between him and the door. “You want me to leave?”
“Uh-huh.” That was harder to articulate than it should be. I’m not meaning to be a bitch. I am just handling more emotions than I can decipher right now, so one of them has to go.
My eyes float around the mess on the kitchen floor when Caleb murmurs, “You don’t want me to help you clean up?”
“Nope. I’ve got it.”
“Jessie—”
“Caleb.” I don’t say his name as nicely as he did mine. He burned off my excess adrenaline from Warren’s visit, but now that it’s been taken care of, I have another far more pressing matter to handle.
Remorse.
Warren hurt my friend. He pinned her to a bed, held a knife to her throat, then almost violated her because I wanted to backpack across Europe, and now she lives the life of a hermit.
“We fucked. That’s the sole purpose of our agreement, so now you can leave.”
Something in my tone is off, and Caleb hones in on it. “Jessie—”
“Just leave, Caleb! I don’t fucking want you here.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he surrenders instead, “Fine. I’ll see you next week.”
He yanks up his pants, puts his cock away, then snatches his house key off the kitchen counter like it belongs there.
I can’t see him, but I hear the throb of his jaw when I murmur, “There are no calendar events next week.”
After spinning around to face me, he shoots daggers at me. “I wasn’t talking about our agreement.” He spits out his last word as roughly as he digs his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. After opening an app, he tosses it onto the counter between us. “I got hired for another gig. Friday night. Eight hundred plus tips.”