Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Us.
“Yes, us. Do you see anyone else here?”
My head shakes. “Let’s do it.”
I blush again at my words, the bravado I don’t feel.
But when Dallas closes the gap between our bodies and puts his mouth on mine, I sigh into it, happy and content, my nerves tingling when I part my lips so his tongue can slip inside.
His arms go around my waist, and he pulls me over until I’m in his lap, kissing him.
“You’re the fuckin’ cutest,” he mutters, lips sliding to my neck, kissing me below my ear, causing me to tingle.
Shiver.
“Am I?”
“Since when are you shy?” His lips are still creeping over my skin, softly pressing into my flesh.
It’s a beautiful distraction.
“I’m not.”
“Sure sounded like it, tryin’ to tell me you have the hots for me.”
“Oh God,” I groan. “Is that going to be a thing? Are you going to constantly be telling me that?”
“Probably.”
thirty-six
dallas
“Once we started dating, I became as horny as possible in every awkward situation.”
– Dallas
Well, hell—if this don’t beat all.
Ryann Winters wants to be my girlfriend.
I hold on tight to her, burying my face in her neck, and close my eyes.
I want to remember this moment, as fucking cheesy as it sounds, because I’ve never had a moment like this before.
Never had a girlfriend if you don’t count the ones in middle school that last for a week. Never had the time.
Scratch that: never made the time.
My mom always says you make time for the things that are important, and I never figured that meant other people, just family—certainly never a woman. I figured she meant football, and Lord knows that was a given.
Making the time to hang with Ryann these past few weeks was easy.
Diego Lorenz did us both a gigantic fucking favor when he dumped her. I’m not sure how the hell I’m going to break the news to him that I’m bangin’ and datin’ his ex, but I’m confident he’ll get over it considering he never gave a shit about her to begin with.
As Ryann would say: easy-peasy.
It’s all uphill from here.
But first, we have to take this show to another room.
I move, readjusting my position on the couch so my feet hit the carpet, then work my hands under her ass so I can lift her. I’ve really taken a shine to carrying her around, and I heft her up so I’m cradling her in my arms as I head to the bedroom.
No couch sex tonight.
Not the occasion for it.
I make short work of peeling my clothes off, Ryann’s eyes scanning my body as I strip.
Dive onto the bed next to her, giving the hem of her sweatshirt a gentle tug.
“Your turn.”
Rolling her eyes, she rolls to the end of the mattress and stands, untying the drawstring waistband of her sweatpants.
Smooth legs.
Pink thong underwear.
Hips, waist, thighs.
My mouth waters; having a girlfriend is going to be awesome.
Ryann takes her sweet time pulling the sweatshirt over her head, revealing a pink bra beneath it that matches her thong.
Sexy, plump cleavage.
“I swear to God I’m going to masturbate to the memory of these fuckin’ things. They’re perfect.”
They’re perfect…
The memory of these.
I cannot wait to see her naked.
thirty-seven
ryann
“When it comes to doggy style, he’s behind me one hundred percent.”
– Winnie
I’m teasing him, but he deserves it.
Likes it.
My hands are at the back of my bra, about to unclasp it. “How bad do you want me to get naked?”
“Yes.” His nod is slow.
“That’s not an answer.”
He reaches for me across the comforter, his tan hand splayed. “You’re drivin’ me crazy.”
Good.
“What’s in it for me if I take off my bra and underwear?”
We both know I’m going to take off my bra and underwear, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make him work for it a bit.
“What’s in it for me says the girl who’s come in my mouth.”
He has a valid point.
I tilt my head. “What do you want to see first? My…” I point to my pussy. “Or my boobs?”
His eyes are homed in on the thong between my legs. “Yes.”
I shake my head playfully. “Pick one.”
“Tits.”
Tits.
The word rolls off his tongue.
Normally I hate the sound of that word, but not from his lips, not when it’s directed at me because he makes me feel sexy and desired, not like an object.
Tits it is.
I unhook my bra, letting it drop to the floor at my feet.
I’m not shy, but I am modest, covering them despite the fact that Dallas has seen me naked before.
I do a little twirl to let him look his fill.
“I love your ass.” He’s doing that thing where he reaches across the bed trying to catch me and grab me so I’ll join him, forgetting that I’m in the middle of a striptease.
Way too impatient.
My hands leave my boobs and go to my hips; thumbs hook inside the band of my thong and tug, tug, until they’re down around my ankles.