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)
“Are we here often without you because of work?”
There’s no reluctance to his nodding. “Which is a habit I’m working to break.”
“Need me to crack my leather whip.”
“You know we have one of those, yes?”
“Uh-huh,” I let my head eagerly bob, “I found it in the locked wall of our closet while playing hide and seek with Wy.”
“How’d you find it if it was locked?”
“It was locked when I found it…” An impish eyebrow wiggle gets us both grinning. “It was open when I left it.”
Additional chortles precede a headshake. “We keep that locked for a reason.”
“Yeah, you don’t like talking about sex in front of my mom-”
“She’s your mother.”
“-I can’t imagine you trying to explain to our son why we have dress up masks in our closet that he’s never allowed to wear.”
This time we laugh loudly together, an action that has my frame thoughtlessly rotating in the seat to face him. “Speaking of things, we’re not allowed to wear…”
“Intriguing segue.”
“While we’re permitted to enjoy our picnic on the beach – PBJs only because they travel better than grilled cheese – we are not allowed to wear our birthday suits on it or in the water.”
“Unlike our first date where that was my actual requirement.”
He cocks a curious eyebrow during the slight shifting of his frame. “You wrote that down?”
“What?”
“That we went skinny dipping.”
“No, of course not.” My amused eyeroll is accompanied by girlish giggles. “That’s the type of shit that falls into the ‘leave no paper trail’ tank.”
Undeniable hope wades through his expression as he asks, “Then who told you?”
“No one,” I thoughtlessly reply, irritation threatening to cross my complexion. “I don’t need anyone to tell me something I was there for. Especially when it involved seeing you soaking wet coming on my fingers.”
Wes presses his lips tightly together in tandem with tipping his head slightly to one side, clearly waiting for something else, but I don’t know what.
Why’s he looking at me like that?
What’s he waiting for me to add?
That it was hard not to come when I heard him come?
That I had tiny hickeys I didn’t wanna cover up?
That I almost always recall our next morning together whenever I have avocado toast?
All of a sudden, a large gasp escapes me, “Iremembered!”
He slowly nods, smile expanding.
“All on my own!”
“All of your own.”
“Ohmygoooodddd!”
“I brought you here to…sort of…recreate our first date…but not to jog your memory,” Wes innocently confesses. “Simply to make a new one.”
“Yet you’ve done both.”
His beam transitions to a teasing one. “I am quite talented, Mrs. Wilcox.”
“And I’m about to be quite naked, Mr. Wilcox.” Wes starts to rebut when I pull the dangling string to my dress causing the tight material to cascade downward, almost completely exposing my tits. “What do you think?” I wiggle the tight fabric lower and lower, slightly rocking the vehicle. “Should I leave my heels on?” It finally pools near my feet prompting me to step out of it. “They might damage the leather.”
“Fuck the leather,” he snarls before smashing his lips against mine.
Our tongues instantly twist and tangle and twirl.
His fights for the right to lead while mine refuses to submit, leading our mouths to hasten in speed.
Become sloppy in execution.
Disregard breathing until air isn’t an option so much as a necessity to continue our devouring; our devouring that starts with us in separate seats yet escalates to me crawling across the middle to his.
Unbuckling his slacks between bites being delivered to my neck.
My collarbone.
I slide his zipper down while his large palms roughly cup my tits, and my knees knock into the door.
The window handle.
My back and ass mercilessly crash into the steering wheel creating what should be just enough discomfort to deter me from continuing to work his dick out of his pants, yet it doesn’t.
No.
It pushes me to move faster.
Grip his shaft harder.
Clamp one hand onto Wes’s shoulder and savagely sit on it.
“Fuck!” is barked in tandem with his forehead banging against mine. “How do you always feel this good, baby?”
“Magic,” I tease during my slow ascending to the tip of his dick.
Rather than let me reach the peak, he yanks me back down by a fistful of hair. “Stay here, Little Prey.” His hips sharply thrust upward. “Stay right.” He bucks again. “Fucking.” And again. “Here.” It’s impossible not to let my head loll into the rapid tugging. “Take. Every.” Pulls once more to sync to pumps. “Fucking.” Shutting my eyes during his other hand’s ass squeezing can’t be stopped. “Inch.”
Choppy moans unrelentingly reverberate around the small space making it impossible to hear the light jazz music coming from his phone, I imagine is now buried under my dress.
Our frames smash together again and again, rocking the vehicle in ways it was never intended to be rocked.
Contorting our figures in ways I’m sure weren’t originally on the menu.