Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Pretty good?” he interrupted, his hand now going downward, spreading my legs, and pushing his finger inside, to where I was already wet for him.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. I was already sensitive there, since his cock was fucking big and he knew how to use it.
“Passable,” I moaned.
He grinned at me when he removed his finger and put it in his mouth.
“You’re pretty passable too.”
I smirked right back at him. “I know I’m more than passable, honey,” I drawled. “Therefore, I know my pussy might have some kind of magic to make you think there could be something more here. That you could love me or something like that. That’s when it gets messy.”
All teasing left Kip’s eyes, and his mouth was a thin line. “I’m not gonna fall in love with you.”
I flinched at the chill in his voice, not expecting it.
Something inside me flinched, too, for some other reason. Some kind of hurt I had no right to feel. I was the one bringing up this conversation, who wanted to make sure this was only sex. But his words were so harsh, they cut me, nonetheless.
“Okay, good,” I said, forcing my voice to be bright. “Then we’re not going to have a problem. We’ll fuck without strings, we’ll play nice for the audience, and once the time is right, we’ll have a clean divorce and go back to our respective lives.”
Kip nodded once. “But we’re not divorced yet.”
Then he rolled me onto my back, deftly slipping his hard cock inside me, showing me the benefits of having a husband who was more than passable at sex.
Whistles sounded as I strutted through the building site.
I grinned, not as bothered as I would normally be with the catcalling. Especially since I had a sense about what was coming next.
“Hey!” a familiar voice boomed. “Next person to whistle at my fucking wife is out of a job and a tongue.”
“I can’t help that I look this good, but you can control those mouths. Come on, boys,” I called out, turning my attention to where Kip’s voice came from.
He was shaking his head at me when he emerged from the depths of the house, wearing his cap, a dirty tee, and the faded jeans that did all the right things for him.
“You here to cause trouble?” he asked when he made it to me, holding on to the belt loop in my jeans and yanking me toward him. I was wearing a white tank with a lace bra that did not mask my nipples hardening with his nearness.
“Me? Cause trouble?” I said innocently. “Never. I just came to bring my husband his lunch.” I held up the basket I’d been carrying.
He looked from me to the basket. “Did you make it?” he asked dubiously.
I scowled at him. “No, Nora made it, so don’t worry. It’s all safe to consume.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Why did you come, babe?”
I’d bristled at the endearment a bunch of times before, but now I didn’t even question it—though I knew in the depths of my mind I should’ve, boundaries and all that—because now we’d fucked, and his casual touches and endearments meant something.
“Because I want the town to think I’m doing a great job at being a wife,” I said sweetly.
He kept a firm hold of my belt loop. I liked it. It was intimate and possessive.
Wait, didn’t I hate possessive men?
“The town knows you plenty well, and they know you’re not the kind of wife to bring her husband a packed lunch,” he said.
That was fair.
“Okay, I’m not here to bring you lunch,” I admitted. “I’m here to get fucked in your truck.” I nodded to the truck, parked off to the side, closer to the woods the house was bordering.
Kip’s expression turned hungry, and he yanked me closer to him so our mouths were inches apart.
My body responded to his warmth against mine, his scent. “I cannot fuck my wife in my fucking truck on my lunch break, with a bunch of men a stone’s throw away,” he murmured against my lips. “As much as I want to.”
I smiled at him. “Well, I’m not really your wife, remember?” I whispered. “I’m just some woman you live with who you happen to be fucking. And if you want to be a stickler about the wife thing, it’s your husbandly duty to take care of me in all ways I need.” I leaned in to place my lips against his. “And I need you to fuck me in that truck, with a bunch of men a stone’s throw away.”
Kip let out a low growl. “Fuck, woman, you’re gonna drain the life outta me.”
I grinned. “Not until I get a Green Card out of you.” I winked and then sauntered in the direction of his truck, swinging my hips, already wet and ready.