Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“It’s my fault,” she quickly insists prior to handing me the broom beside her. “I’m um…I’m kind of early.”
“By like six whole minutes.”
“Still.” Pres’s sweet face innocently scrunches. “Probably should’ve just waited in my car or asked where you wanted to meet or texted to see if you were ready or-”
“Or done what you did because you couldn’t wait another minute to see my face just like I couldn’t wait another minute to see yours.”
This time a blush coats itself all the way down to the neck she’s put makeup on to cover my handiwork.
I know she’s got fucking hickeys.
I saw this morning before I left.
Thinking about them in the middle of traffic damn near had me rear-ending someone.
“It’s okay to miss me, Pres,” my reassurance is casual alongside my efforts to sweep.
“Is it?” she pokes back, confusion and mirth both clear in her tone. “Isn’t that like clingy shit?”
“Baby, there’s a huge difference between popping into the shop because you missed seeing my face and driving by the shop every hour on the hour just to stand not seeing my face.”
The wince sound out of her briefly catches my stare. “Has that happened to you?”
“Not to me, thank fuck, but that shit is like the tip of the toothpick for Lavon’s baby mama drama shit.”
“Wow,” she whispers out in shock while I return to sweeping up the grime near the car that’s staying overnight in the garage. Her segue is easy and natural yet still unexpected. “Do you um…have kids?”
I cease the action to attach our gazes. “No.”
Relief runs through her gaze, much like it did this morning, when she realized I was still with her.
Relief?
I like.
Fear?
Can fuck off.
Despite what my gut is barking, I force the words to leave my mouth in desperate need of verbal confirmation. “Do you?”
“An entire school full,” she playfully replies breaking up the tension in the room. “But you already knew that.”
“Yeah, McCoy mentioned you were his boss but not much else.”
Her frame gradually gravitates closer, stirring the need for a different type of hit of her. “Didn’t Noah tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That…I’m the owner of the private preschool your niece attends.”
“Fuckin’ what?!” I gently lean the broom against the mirror of the maroon Honda Civic. “That asshole sees you fucking daily and didn’t say dick to me about it?”
“Well, he, doesn’t see me daily,” she teasingly corrects. “Shelly and Shelby see me daily. Your niece is so cute.”
“Yeah, bumble bee is the cutest fucking baby in the entire world.”
“The entire world, huh?”
“Facts are facts, baby. I’ve seen the votes.”
Snickers slip free as she effortlessly continues to slide closer.
Step within in touching range.
Kissing range.
Fucking range.
“I wonder why he didn’t tell you.” She nervously fidgets with the edge of her dress. “I mean I figured he would’ve after what he said to me-”
Protectively, I bite, “What the fuck did my brother say to you?”
Both hands are pressed against my chest damn near instantly. Between the warmth of her palms and the peace she naturally radiates, uneasiness melts to the same speed it was created. “Relax, Ry.” Her thumbs deliver a soothing stroke. “He just told me that he liked us together back in the day. Thought we’d be together forever. Liked that I loved you. And then he told me…that…issues with your parents were…part of the real reason you split with me.”
“That wasn’t his place to say.”
“Ry-”
“That wasn’t his shit to tell.”
“Ry-”
“He had no fucking right-”
My body is suddenly jerked down to hers and soft lips are smashed against mine, eliciting an unconscious sigh of content. The position of my mouth being opened allows her tongue easy access to sweep away the rant that was beginning. To replace the aggression with something a million times more appeasing.
Pleasing.
Harsh, heavy, and hot lashes are wielded wildly around the space enslaving my senses and shutting out anything that isn’t her.
Us.
Pres abruptly pulls back, her panting prompting me to curl my fingers around the nape of her neck in preparation of tugging her back to where she belongs. “We need to talk about everything that happened.”
It pains me to agree, yet I do. “I know.”
“And um…,” her fingers slowly drag themselves down the front of my shirt, hunger growing exponentially in her stare, “we need to talk about where we are now separately…”
Nodding mindlessly occurs alongside her unbuckling of my belt.
“Where we wanna be together-”
“Naked.”
“We need to setup some um…,” the words fumble yet the unbuttoning of my jeans doesn’t, “boundaries?” She takes a tiny bite of her bottom lip as the sound of my zipper lowering echoes around the garage. “Yeah, boundaries is probably the right word. Establish some uh…”
Pres’s fingers needily dive into my open pants to graze my cock. “Fuck, baby.”
“Healthy stuff,” she rambles, although the words are no longer really registering. “But right now?” Her warm hand gently cups my sac. “ We can do the totally irresponsible thing and have sex?”