Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Mmm,” Wes sleepily groans, eyes still closed, “morning, Little Prey.” He lets his lids finally lift. “Feed me breakfast in bed?” A wolfish lick of his lips is stolen. “Sit on my face.”
“Or perhaps you could put avocado toast into it instead?” Clark, my apparent stepfather, suggests on a haughty chortle. “Or perhaps a glass of orange juice?”
Wes pulls the sheet up higher to theoretically cover more of my naked frame at the same time he inquires, “How did you know I was in here?”
Another smug expression slips onto his face. “How I could not?”
Crimson instantly coats his cheeks prompting me to snicker.
Yeah.
I’m a screamer when the shit’s that good.
And the shit last night…and early this morning was sooooo that good.
My floor sleeping partner tucks one arm underneath his head prior to sighing, “Are you simply here to summon me to breakfast?”
“Mr. Reese has repeatedly been trying to reach you this morning regarding a conference call involving the import extension.”
The grumbling underneath me is familiar.
Comforting.
“I have your phone and your headset,” he announces and reveals the objects that were lingering behind his back. “Would you care for breakfast to be delivered to your office upstairs or down?”
“Down, please.”
“Very well.”
“Is our son awake?”
Oooph.
That still feels so fucking weird to hear.
“Your son is currently assisting Lucky as well as Lauren with the plating process and will engage in breakfast himself with his Gami once his sworn duty to feed the citizens of Gotham is complete.”
Watching the corner of Wes’s lips kick upward makes it impossible to not stare on in awe. “He woke up in a hero mood.”
“Cape and all.”
“That thing needs to be washed.”
“Cassandra has already been alerted to launder it when he leaves for school.” Smiles are sweetly exchanged. “Would you like me or Lauren to escort him there today given that you gave Jessie the week off?”
“You did?” my interjection receives his attention. “Why?”
“He needs time with us. Both of us.” The blatant response is attached to his gaze finding mine. “And that’s non-negotiable.”
It’s impossible not to tease. “How often in a day do you say that phrase?”
“Too often,” my stepdad retorts, collecting our stares again.
“I will escort my son to school after my meeting,” Wes informs. “Please leave the items on the chair and I will grab them on my way out.”
Clark nods his understanding before turning his attention to me. “And you, Bryn? Where would you like to enjoy your breakfast? Perhaps in the aquarium room?”
A loud, theatrical gasp shoots free, “I forgot there’s an aquarium room!”
“Studied our world history but not our world geography?” the man underneath me impishly taunts. “That doesn’t sound like the Uhura I married.”
Light snickers can’t be stifled. “Keep talkin shit, Spock, and I’ll remind you exactly of the Uhura you married.”
“Promises, promises, Lieutenant.”
His flirty response receives a scoff that sparks our visitor to abandon the items on the chair and gleefully flee.
Afterward, one set of Wes’s fingers dives into the back of my locks to pull me into a kiss while the other wanders the length of my spine. Our tongues lazily roll around one another’s once.
Twice.
Once more.
Greet each other.
Help us greet the day.
Attempt to stay connected yet are forced apart by the ringing of his cell.
“This definitely feels familiar and not in a good way,” I sassily scold as he slips away.
“Noted.” A sweet wink is presented. “And will be addressed. You have my word.”
“I don’t want your word…” Playfully tossing the blanket off my naked frame momentarily paralyzes him. “I want your cock.”
His lips purse together in sexual agony. “Can you give me like…five minutes to reschedule?”
“Sure.” Rolling over onto my back is swiftly followed by my bent legs falling open. “But I’m gonna get started now. And if I happen to finish before you do…” A small devilish shrug is delivered. “That’ll be your loss of assets, Mr. Wilcox.” I turn to shoot him a wicked smirk at the same time I let my fingertips land salaciously on top of my tit. “Not mine.”
Unhappy rumbles precede a whirlwind of events.
One minute I’m teasing him and the next my mouth is being covered during a finger pounding that’s used to buy him enough time to postpone the call. Our floor session leads to a shower session that eventually ends with a closet session, which is where I stay sore and sprawled out for longer than I planned.
During the process of slipping into a misty blue, lacy romper dress that possesses a deep v cut, I decide not to have my breakfast away from everyone else, essentially continuing my habit of hiding.
I’m done hiding.
I’m done wanting to hide.
Last night – between eating sandwiches like starving freshman and banging like newlyweds – we talked about moving forward and making new memories and connecting with the place we’re both in now, which can’t happen if I keep relocating myself away from them.