Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
About two hours in, our conversation skids away from Saga and veers into steamier territory. “You don’t have a porn preference?”
“That shock you?” Donnelly grins into a sip of Lightning Bolt!
I’m also partaking in an energy drink, not wanting to sleep anytime soon. He’s leaning a bicep on a fuzzy white pillow, relaxed into it. I face him with crossed legs. “Kinda. I would’ve thought you’d gravitate towards a specific category.”
He shakes his head once. “I never watched much porn, to be honest.”
My brows spring.
He laughs into a swig. “Now I really got you.”
“It doesn’t turn you on?” I wonder.
“Nah, it’s not that.” His eyes flit over me, then away for a brief second. “Where was I gonna watch it? I didn’t grow up with a lot of privacy, and I’m not talking about your lack of privacy—the American royal kind. Mine was just a buncha people in and out of a cramped apartment. My room was barely mine to begin with. My parents didn’t pay for internet either. The cell phone I bought myself in high school—it was cheap and archaic and only made calls.” He combs a hand casually through his hair. “I’d do a lot of weird shit, but I wouldn’t pull up porn at a public library or a café with free Wi-Fi.”
“That’s probably wise,” I nod.
His lips lift. “Your brother does call me wise one.”
“He’s not wrong,” I sing-song and sip the energy drink, unable to really look away from him. I love learning more about Donnelly, even the tougher, sadder parts of his childhood. All these pieces make up who he is.
He skims me. “You watch any porn?”
“Yep. But not so, so often. I knew my mom was addicted to it at one point, so I always tried to limit how much I watched. But still…” I shrug. “I clicked into a lot of sites, and I like NSFW gifs. They help with writing new positions for steamy chapters.”
Donnelly bends a knee, resting his elbow on it. I like how he moves his body. Is that strange? “You’ve got a favorite porn category?”
“Yep.” My face bakes in heat, but more so with how Donnelly is undressing me with his eyes. Like he’s imagining slipping off the baggy black AC/DC tee I’m wearing and stripping me of my sweatpants. I take a bigger gulp of Lightning Bolt! “You’ll never guess it.”
“Hentai.”
“Nope.”
“Bondage.”
“Uh-uh.” I shake my head, and I like how his guesses aren’t questions. He says each one with certainty.
“Feet.”
I smile. “Wrong again.”
“I’ll never guess it, huh?” He takes out his phone. “Maybe ‘cause I don’t know the categories off the top of my head.” He’s looking them up now. “Cumshot.”
“Very good guess. I like that one.”
“Funny, so do I.” He’s scrolling. “But in real life.”
My clit throbs at the molten hot look he gives me, and I dig the heel of my foot into the spot between my legs.
“What else do you like in real life?” I sound very eager because I’m dying to know more about his preferences.
Problem is, he’s more interested in figuring out mine. “I gotta solve this mystery first. Scooby Doo wouldn’t be happy with me.” He stares at his phone. “Big Dick.”
“Nope again.”
“I feel like Cosplay and Role Play are too obvious.” He squints at me like I’m an intriguing creature. “Toys?” It’s the first one posed as a question.
“You don’t sound confident.”
“Toys,” he says with certainty while locked on my gaze, and I can’t deny how hot it is. So hot that I wish my favorite category were toys. His South Philly lilt is also entrapping me, his mere voice flirting with my desires.
“Not toys.”
“Alright, you’re gonna have to tell me. There are a million categories, and I must be far off.”
“Quite a ways off.” I try not to be nervous about confessing this, but a wave of anxiety rushes as I rip the Band-Aid and say, “Gang bang.”
“Gang bang,” he repeats with a slow-rising grin into a sip of his energy drink. “Why gang bang?” He’s not freaked or jumping to conclusions, which is why my anxiety washes out like the roll of a wave.
“It’s not that I ever wanted a threesome or anything. I never really desired to be gang banged in real life,” I preface. “Most especially not now. I mean…it makes me physically sick thinking about anyone else touching me but you.” I flip the aluminum tab back and forth on the slender can.
“What turned you on about it?” he wonders.
“How sex seemed to have no pause. She’d come and then she’d be full again. I just liked the idea of being taken over and over and over.” I glance up at him.
His muscles have flexed, his cock clearly hardening against his black cotton pants, and he mutters a sexy, “Fuck.” He scrapes another hand through his hair, then downs a larger swig. He’s stripping me with his gaze again.