Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 102683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
He’s a giver.
I know he’s hard; I can feel the erection on my leg, but Ashley makes no move to do anything about it. He’s not rubbing it and he certainly isn’t pushing me to blow it.
Or stroke it.
But I’m a giver too, and I did say I wanted to use this weekend to do what we wanted with each other, not to act like roommates and friends—see where the wind blows us.
“Come here,” I tell him, patting the spot on the bed next to me.
It’s completely dark in the room, the TV having shut off automatically (how convenient). If not for the light streaming in through the windows, I wouldn’t be able to see him at all.
Ashley shifts his large body and crawls up the mattress toward me.
I lean over to kiss him when he settles down into his sleep spot, a firm kiss with tongue, despite the fact that he just went down on me.
I taste myself.
I taste his tongue and the champagne he drank in the hot tub, mixed with a little beer too.
He’s so very masculine, his five-o’clock beard stubble scratching my chin as we make out. I feel myself getting turned on again, though my nerves are still tingling from my orgasm.
I’m so turned on by him.
He’s so freaking sexy.
Bloody sexy he’d say in that accent I’ve grown to dream about in my sleep. I hear it in my daydreams.
For some odd reason, I get the feeling that when it comes to relationships, I’m much more experienced than Ashley despite my own inexperience. He’s much more reserved when it comes to women than I am when it comes to men—I think I probably put myself out there more because in the end…I am looking for love.
Maybe not exactly at this second, but someday I do want to get married and I do want to have kids.
And honestly…I don’t even see myself working full-time when I have them; I see myself being a mom and going to soccer games and volunteering in the classroom in my free time.
I think that would surprise him.
I have a feeling there are many misunderstandings between us stemming from that first night we met—but I can see that his perspective of me is changing each and every day, the more and more time we spend together.
The more I open up to him and show him what I’m really like.
Ashley, for all that he tries to be aloof and withheld, is actually more of an open book. He wears his heart on his sleeve and his thoughts show in his expressions. Whenever he doesn’t like something, his brow will furrow and his mouth will draw into a straight line.
Easy to read.
Easier to understand the more I know about his past.
While I kiss his beautiful mouth and face, I gently run my hands through his hair, somewhat cradling his head—he’s half smushed into my boobs as my other hand works its way down his stomach.
His rock-hard abs.
I circle my index finger around his belly button—it’s an innie—and feel his body stiffen in anticipation…he knows what’s coming and he’s prepared for it.
Round and round and round my finger goes, in slow, slow circles…
It occurs to me then that maybe my feelings for Ashley run a bit deeper than “I really like him, maybe I want to date him.” He’s lying in my arms, letting me cradle him, eyes closed, lips pursed. Loving every minute of the affection.
Our kisses get deeper.
He moves me as my palm travels over his pelvis, tips of my fingers brushing the hair above his cock—moves me so I’m lying on my back.
Braced over me, he looks down into my eyes.
We watch one another even as my hand finds and grips his shaft, finding a rhythm that has his nostrils flaring and his breath quickening.
His body gives a quick shudder.
I lean up to kiss his mouth as I stroke him, working him two ways, with my tongue and with my hand.
It’s been ages since I’ve given a hand job and I know it’s not what most men dream of when they think of foreplay, but this is my comfort level. I can’t remember the last time I was intimate with someone; it’s been ages since my last hand job and longer since my last blowie.
They intimidate me.
The way Ashley used to intimidate me.
Maybe that’s what was holding me back from admitting I was attracted to him; he’s a giant.
I didn’t want to get rejected by someone I admire for his strength and determination and the drive to succeed. He’s seen and done more worldly things in one year than I’ve done in a lifetime.
I could certainly use the practice when it comes to men’s penises, so it may take a little more alcohol than I’ve consumed tonight to put his dick in my mouth.