Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?”
Jerking up, I see Regan at the door left ajar by Nick. “Ah, nothing?” I prevaricate, moving from my lunge position where I was kneecapping an imaginary foe with my new weapon. Guiltily, I set the wrench behind me on the counter and stride toward her.
“Looks like you were practicing some kind of assassin moves.” Skepticism is clear in her face and voice.
Pulling Regan into my arms, I place wet kisses along the column of her throat. “You never know when I’ll need to protect you from a spider or cockroach. I can’t allow my skills to get rusty.”
Tilting her head to the side, she allows me greater access to the sensitive skin on her neck. She shudders when I reach the hidden spot behind her ear. Her arms slide around me, and thoughts of home repair drop out of my head to be replaced by the feel of her lush body against mine. Regan’s been eating regularly since we’ve left Brazil, and it looks good on her—not to mention how much I enjoy the feel of her roundness in my palms.
“God, you are so fucking hot. Let’s go upstairs.” Without waiting for a response, I lift her over my shoulder and squeeze one delectable ass cheek.
“I’m losing all the blood in my head,” she complains.
“Not to worry. Soon it will be between your legs.” This is a good position, because she can’t see my smug expression.
“That’s you, baby boy.”
“I thought we’d agreed you’d call me Huge Dicked Daniel.”
My reward is a few more pummels to my back, but those little punches turn to caresses once we are inside the bedroom and my head is between her legs. Her hands knead my shoulders as I concentrate on the taste and smell of her fantastic pussy.
When I finally do enter her, she rewards me with a dreamy smile and a breathy observation. “You do have a huge cock, Daniel.”
“It’s getting bigger with every compliment,” I grunt, clutching the flesh at her hips and driving hard into her sweet warmth.
“It’s humongous. Bigger than an elephant.”
My quakes are from laughter, and I allow her to flip me over and ride me like I’m a wild mustang. Sex with Regan is glorious—fun, intense, passionate.
After a sweaty bout of bed play, Regan swirls her index finger in the whorls of my chest hair. If I had any sensation left in my body this might have been ticklish, but she has worn me out.
“You seem restless lately.”
“I think we need a bigger bed. Not enough room in here to really do everything that I’ve been fantasizing about.”
She tugs on a few hairs. “I’m serious. I’m worried about you. I don’t think general handyman is what you want to do for the rest of your life.”
I roll her over and pin her arms above her head. “If the rest of my life is spent with you, then it’s all good. That’s the only thing I have going on of any importance.”
“Then you should stick your cock inside me again.” Her voice is playful, but her eyes contain a worry I don’t really know how to dispel. “Do you want to go home?”
“I am home.” I’m not deliberately misunderstanding Regan. It’s the truth. My home is with her. “As long as you love me, I’m complete.” She looks like she wants to protest or argue some more, but I’ve got other ideas. Swinging her up in my arms, I carry her to the shower, where I show her how good home feels. It doesn’t matter that I can’t go home until Naomi is done with her thing in Russia, because I wouldn’t leave Regan anyway. Not for all the ranch land in Texas.
The next day, I’m back working on the sink. Nick’s at art class, and I’m getting a lot done without him around to curse in Ukrainian and kick the pipes. The bathroom sinks are connected, and I have to add a U trap and connect the garbage disposal and I’ll be done. Regan is wrong. I’m getting the hang of the fix-it stuff, and I don’t mind it. I’m so caught up in my work that I don’t hear the door open or the footsteps that trample into the apartment. I don’t even realize I’m not alone until I crawl out from underneath the sink to see my old man standing next to Regan, looking like he’s about thirty years older than his actual age.
“Dad,” I say warily, pulling off the leather work gloves and tossing them into the sink. “You’re a long way from the ranch.” I can’t remember the last time my old man left Texas. I blink a few times to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
“It was a direct flight from Dallas,” he says shortly and looks around the room at everything but me. I take the opportunity to look quizzically at Regan, but she just smiles mysteriously. “Nice place.”