Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
It doesn’t take the elevator long to take me up to her floor. No one was in the small, enclosed space with me, a small favor, since I have to make sure my suit jacket is covering my hard cock. The sound dings, the doors open, and I’m stepping off to take the short walk towards the end of the hall. I type in the passcode again. Stupid fucking things. It’s like asking for someone to walk into your place a fuck ton easier than a normal key would make it.
“Damn it,” I grumble beneath my breath when the door opens, meaning she doesn’t have the second lock in place. She and I are going to have words, or I’ll be moving her out if this place faster than she can fucking blink. “Nessa, babe, you ready?” I ask into the small space. Where my house looks like I just moved in, Vanessa’s place looks lived in. Though, the past couple of days, my house has looked more like a home than ever before. Would I be wrong to move her in this week? Maybe. Would I give a fuck? Not even close.
Nessa doesn’t respond as I step inside. I close the door behind me, making noise in case she didn’t hear me call out her name. I’d hate for her to come around the corner and lose her balance because I’m standing in her place unannounced.
“Babe!” I call out again as I walk down the hall, stopping in the doorway when I see Vanessa. She’s standing in front of her full-length mirror, in heels, a dress that’s unzipped at the back, black, short, and tight. A long-sleeved second skin, hair draping down in soft waves pulled to the side while she fiddles with her makeup. She is so lost in what she’s doing, she has no idea I’m leaning against the jamb of her bedroom door, looking my fill. The high heels she has on elongate her already slim, muscular legs and accentuate that heart-shaped ass. One that I’m ready to sink my teeth into, especially now that I know my girl likes how I play. I cross my arms over my chest, cross my ankles, and watch her like a lion as it stalks its prey, thinking about all the dirty ways I’m going to have her in one of our beds tonight.
She does one more swipe of her lipstick, dragging it along the top of her lip, then doing the same to her bottom lip. It doesn’t matter what she does—it could be a laugh, a smile, a touch, every little thing she does hits me in that spot I thought was dead and destroyed by another person. One who I once saw a future with, one who did me wrong. Now, standing here, watching Vanessa, being surrounded by her this week, it’s shown me that she was made for me, and I was made for her.
“Parker.” She finally notices me, unaware of the thoughts I’ve got running through my mind. I watch as she takes her fill of me, much like I’ve been doing to her for the past few minutes. A blush appears on the apples of her cheeks when I lick my lower lip, suppressing the need to say fuck it to our plans of dinner tonight and have my meal on her bed, head buried between her legs as an appetizer, then fucking as many orgasms as I can out of her before finally letting go and coming myself.
“Christ, babe, not sure I’m willing to share you with the outside world in that dress and those heels.” Vanessa turns around, showing me the front. The dress covers her from her upper thighs to her throat. I smirk, wondering if she picked it out because of the marks I’ve left along her collarbones. Tonight, when I peel her out of the dress, will tell me all I need to know.
“I told you we didn’t even have to go out. You’ve got a dream of a kitchen. I’d have no problem cooking a meal with you instead.” She walks towards me, a slow sensual dance as she takes her place in front of me.
“Next time.” It pains me to admit her idea is a hundred times better, and I’d probably agree, but that thought niggles in the back of my head that Vanessa deserves a man who can take her out, show her off, and not be the recluse he’s known to be.
“Okay, can you zip up my dress?” she asks, her tone so low it’s barely above a whisper.
“Of course.” I stand up straight as she turns around, pulling her hair off to the side in case it gets in the way. The tip of my finger travels from the nape of her neck, watching as her skin pebbles along the way. It’s a damn shame to cover up her smooth, soft skin. I reach the base of her spine, a slow tempting torture for both of us, and pull the tab up. Slowly. She turns back around yet again. “Christ, I want to take your lips.”