Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Panting as we come back, I blink, trying to get my eyes to focus, but with my head resting on Kyle’s forehead, he’s so close that I can’t see him clearly. But I can tell he’s smiling.
“Did we just fuck in your work truck?” I whisper as the reality of our situation hits me.
He doesn’t move his head but cuts his eyes left and right, looking around like he doesn’t know where we are. “Yeah.”
“I told Nessa that was gross.”
“Doesn’t feel gross. Feels good.” He groans as he grinds me down on him a bit more even though we’re both spent.
“Last time, I was coming home from a date. Today, I went psycho about you touching your sister-in-law. This time, you’re worried about my customers seeing me in the same leggings I’ve been wearing every day for years,” I say lightly, but my next words have a more serious tone. “I’m not sure this is healthy.”
“I’m not a jealous, possessive Neanderthal who needs to own you. You belong to yourself.” He pins me with a look, like he wants to make sure I hear that loud and clear. “But,” he says, risking his life for the point-two seconds it takes to explain that contradiction, “I like that you choose to spend your limited free time with me, so how about healthy communication and respect when we’re not fucking and toxic, filthy sex when we are?”
With his cock still inside me and my orgasm barely faded, he makes it sound like a pretty good proposal, and I tilt my head, considering it.
He uses my hesitation as an opportunity to sway my decision, laying a line of kisses to my exposed neck, up to my earlobe, which he nibbles, before moving down my jaw toward my mouth. I almost want to delay deciding just to see where else he might kiss and touch and how far he’ll go to convince me.
“Okay, but don’t think you can boss me around when I’m not on your dick. Any other time, I’ll cut it off.” I’m joking… but also, not.
“Of course, as you should.”
I give him a dark look, assuming he’s joking too, but he seems serious, for the most part.
“Seeing as you’re still currently on my dick, though, can I suggest we get inside before my neighbors call the police? I’m not sure I can talk our way out of two tickets in one week.”
“Shit!” I hiss, looking around in horror like we might have a whole-ass audience I hadn’t noticed in my rush to climb onto Kyle.
He grips my hips once more, holding me in place. “Truthfully, my neighbors don’t care. They’re too far away, and we have a very strong ‘you leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone’ mentality around here. I could probably fuck you in my actual front yard in the midday sun and no one would pay us any mind. But we probably should get inside, if nothing else, so I can get you into a shower and maybe get inside you again.”
Okay, that sounds… doable.
CHAPTER 22
KYLE
Iride down Riverdale Street, still not sure this is the best plan. I’m mostly leaving it up to fate. If Dani is home, I’ll talk to her and ask her to go with me. If she’s not, it’s a sign that it’s too soon.
I glance up at the cloudless blue sky, wondering if there’s any way to sway fate toward one direction or the other, but even if there is, I’m not sure which result I’m hoping for.
I get my answer a moment later when I see her car parked in her driveway, and a knot in my chest releases. As I pull in behind her, Dani’s already stepping out on the front porch. She looks beautiful. Her hair is down, falling over her back, she’s wearing jeans and a fitted T-shirt that make me want to take her in my arms and strip them off her, her eyes are bright, and she’s smiling like she’s happy to see me.
She walks over as I take off my helmet, saying, “Hey, I heard you coming down the street. What’re you doing here?”
Stalling, I don’t answer her question but ask one of my own. “Did your Costco order come? Was it all okay?”
“Yeah, it was actually great. The delivery guy brought it all up to the porch, which cut my trips with the 50-pound bags in half. From the door to the kitchen is easy-peasy. It’s the trunk to the door that sucks. There might only be one step to get onto the porch, but it’s a beast.” She laughs, but I hear how hard she works without giving it a second thought.
“Maybe next time, we can go together and I can carry those heavy bags of rice and beans for you.” I make a show of flexing my bicep cheesily, even patting it affectionately. “Might as well do something useful with these things.”