Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
“I have leggings on underneath this, but no shirt. I might have a sports bra out in my car.”
“I have a shirt you can borrow,” Tyson says, still staring at my chest. Hmmm…. Why do I like that so much?
At this point, all I can do is nod. I leave the room, and as soon as I do, I lean against the wall outside of it, dressed like a pirate princess, and just breathe. It takes me several deep breaths before I can even think about moving from where I am now rooted. I dash out to my car, grab my bra from my gym bag, and go back inside. I am standing outside the restroom when Tyson comes to me and brings me a t-shirt.
Without a word, I move to stand in front of him. I turn my back to him, and l look back at him over my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know this is unprofessional of me, but can you unlace me?” I had my sweet old lady neighbor, Gladys, tie me into this thing this morning. He nods and begins to untie my dress. I cup my boobs to keep the dress from falling. His knuckles graze my spine as he moves slowly. So slowly. I can feel every brush of them in my core. Fuckkkk. “Thank you,” I reply, my voice husky and foreign.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, his voice harsher than I’ve heard it. His words wash over me, and I duck into the bathroom. It’s a single, so I drop the dress.
I stare at myself in the mirror and wonder briefly if I have enough time to frantically rub my pussy. I need release so badly. Fuck it. I know I’ll never get through the rest of the day if I don’t. I rush into the stall and put my hands into my pants. I think about Tyson. Looking at me. Touching me. Breathing on me. It doesn’t take more than two or three minutes before I’m gasping his name and moaning as softly as I can, but my free hand hits the stall door loudly. Oh well. It was probably quiet enough.
I feel so much better, but I know it would be even better if he were in here with me. I pull on my bra and his t-shirt. It smells like fabric softener and cologne. I wash my hands and open the door, giant dress in hand. He’s standing right where I left him. Why did I assume he’d go? He looks pained, and it is then that I know he heard me. He knew I thought of him when I made myself come. Shit. I smile brightly and sail past him, pretending that it never happened.
Yeah, that will work.
Chapter One
Tyson
Three Months Later
Do you have any idea what it’s like to fuck your own hand night after night thinking about the woman of your dreams? With her being so close and you can’t do a fucking thing about it. You can’t do anything about it because your asshole brothers and your business partner remind you every fucking day that you can’t. That it’s illegal? That one more allegation will actually ruin me. Ruin the company and ruin Stacee too.
One is a fluke; two is fucking pattern.
Well, I’ve decided that I don’t give a good goddamn anymore. While I won’t let my feelings for Stacee, and yes, at this fucking point, it’s more than that initial lust I felt for when I met her, ruin us, I am taking what I want from her. I won’t be taking anything she doesn’t want to give me. Her soft moaning of my name lives in my motherfucking head. I hear it all the time. I imagine her on the other side of that door, pants down, finger fucking herself, thinking of me. Thinking of what I can give her. No other man she’s had will ever compare to me and what I will do for her. Hearing her come in my mind is not good enough anymore. I need to hear it when I’m buried balls-deep inside of her. Pounding in and out of her before spilling my seed inside of her. Fuck, I gasp as my orgasm takes over, and I cum all over my chest and hand. God, I have a lot of time to make up for, and I should stop wasting my seed, but it’s fucking uncomfortable walking around with a hard cock. I get up from my bed and head into the shower to clean up. It’s morning and night of this shit. In the last three months, I’ve jerked off more than I ever did when I was a teenager. I need the real thing. I need her. How the hell is it possible to be so head over heels in love with a woman I haven’t even kissed yet?