Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
My hips rocked against him but it wasn’t nearly what I needed.
“Why are your clothes still on?” I asked, fingers moving up under his shirt to feel his warm skin.
Levee’s chuckle vibrated against my earlobe.
“Mainly,” he said, pulling back to look at me with his heavy-lidded eyes, “a possible indecent exposure charge.”
The little whimper that was starting to escape me broke off on a moan as his hand moved between us, pressing up against the material between my thighs.
A rumbling sound moved through Levee. “So wet for me already,” he said, fingers teasing up my cleft to find my clit through the material, and starting to work me.
Keeping one arm around him, I reached between us, yanking my panties out of his way, so his fingers could touch me without the barrier.
“Yes,” I moaned as his thumb moved to my clit, and two of his fingers slid inside of me.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Levee groaned, his forehead pressing to mine for a moment as my walls tightened around his fingers, eager for some movement, some friction. “That’s it,” he said as my hips started to rock. “Ride my fingers.”
But then his fingers were fucking me. Quick and hard, just like I needed.
He worked me relentlessly, seeming to have a sixth sense for when my little whimpers were going to become full moans, making him lean in and take my lips again, muffling my sounds as he drove me right to that edge, then sent me tumbling over.
I buried my face in his neck, crying out my release against the material of his warm, soft t-shirt. He worked me through it, dragging it out until I was spent.
I was still clinging to him and his fingers were still inside of me when there was a loud crash outside that had us breaking apart.
I dropped down onto my feet, pulling my skirt back into place as Levee turned so his back was to the doorway, blocking anyone’s view of me while I adjusted.
With a smug little grin toying with his lips. Then, gaze on me, he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting me just before two teenaged girls and their mother came into the laundry room.
“Mrs. Jackson,” I greeted her, feeling a bit like I’d almost gotten caught messing around with a boy by my own mother. “Talia. Aaliah,” I said, nodding toward the tall, thin girls who both had these big hazel eyes that they’d inherited from their mother.
Those hazel eyes of Mrs. Jackson were honed in on Levee right then. Likely seeing the things I’d seen with my own eyes when I’d first seen him.
A man too handsome for his own good. The mischievous light in his eye. The cocky grin.
“Everything alright here?” she asked, speaking to me, but pinning Levee with a disapproving-mom look. “Who is this young man?”
“Mrs. Jackson, this is Levee,” I said. “He takes care of William. You know, my neighbor.”
Mrs. Jackson made a clicking noise at that information.
“Ma’am, I apologize for anything my uncle may have said or done. I’m sure all of it was inexcusable,” Levee said, making Mrs. Jackson relax her stance.
“That’s right,” she agreed. “But you’re a good nephew for caring for his rotten soul anyway,” she said, shooting Levee a little smirk before turning to help her daughters start their laundry.
I took the opportunity to move my bedding along and by the time it was done, Lily and her kids were back.
Talia and Aaliah entertained the kids as Mrs. Jackson plucked the baby from Lily, the two women talking in hushed tones, likely discussing Curtis.
I noticed that a lot of the moms in the building really tried to close in around each other. All of them living similar experiences and trying to help one another as much as possible.
“Jade,” Lily called as Levee finished folding the last of William’s clothes. “Mrs. Jackson wants to talk to you about hiring you to do portraits for her girls.”
“They have their school pictures coming up, but those are never any good.”
“Of course I will do them. But no charge,” I insisted as I moved toward the women.
“You need to make a living,” Mrs. Jackson insisted.
“Fine then. Twenty bucks each.”
“School pictures would be around one hundred for both of them. More if I want digital files.”
“Okay. How about an even seventy-five, with access to digital files at no extra charge?” I asked, vaguely aware of Levee’s phone ringing. But much more acutely aware of his absence just a moment later.
I had to stay there discussing portraits, pretending there wasn’t a crushing sort of disappointment moving through my system, realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to continue what we started here. That I was likely not even going to see him for another whole week. If then.
When I made my way back upstairs half an hour later, the only sounds coming from William’s apartment were his usual sports replays.