Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
When a man actually cares.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she wants the same in bed. A man who tells only the truth. Easy. So fucking easy. But a man should ask too. Should make sure she’s one hundred percent on board. So I follow up with, “Do you want that, Rachel?”
“Please. Yes. Do that. Now,” she says, and this time she isn’t unsure where to put her hands. She’s one hundred percent committed to the cause of feeling me up. Her nimble fingers slide down my pecs on a mad dash for my abs, till she reaches my happy trail. When she arrives at the waistband of my jeans, I cover her hand with mine, then slide her palm over the ridge of my erection.
Her reaction is gold. A surprised gasp of excitement. Curiosity too. Maybe a touch of fear.
But there will be time to face that fear later. First, I want her to know what she does to me. I guide her hands back to my chest, and she’s smiling, perhaps a little sex drunk as she explores my body.
Good. Fucking good. She can use me however she wants. “I like that. Feeling your hands all over me,” I tell her.
I finger the hem of her shirt, then kiss her jaw. On a staggered breath, she stretches her neck, asking for more kisses all while she journeys over my chest, down my arms, across my abs. Like that, we explore each other with lips and fingers.
As I go, I lift up her shirt, exposing her belly inch by inch, touching her soft flesh.
But that’s slow enough for now. I tug her shirt off the rest of the way, and it’s like I’ve unwrapped a gift with my name on it.
Holy fucking lingerie.
“Look at you. Who knew you had such a sexy bra on?” I say, shaking my head in admiration. It’s pink lace, with an embroidered flower between her tits, and I want to bite that off. I run a finger over the cloth petal, playing with it. “You like pretty things,” I say, and I sound amazed. Hell, I feel amazed to know this private detail about Rachel Dumont.
“I do,” she says but her smile disappears. Nerves take its place, and she’s gone from bold to uncertain as she asks, “You like it?”
Is that not obvious? I tilt my head to study her face, but her expression answers it for me—it’s not clear to her. I’m not sure why she’s flip-flopped, but I’ll just need to show her how much I enjoy this detail of her. “Fucking love it so much,” I say, then I bury my face between her tits. Hello, happy place, I am in you. That orange-blossom smell, her soft skin, her fingers in my hair.
But, hold on.
Her fingers are tentative still.
I’m not sure if she’s nervous because it’s me, and we’re friends, and this is a line.
Or because of what she told me last night about how a man treats a woman. I should ask what’s going on. Really I should. But she tastes so good and I’m far too distracted by her breasts, and the kisses I’m laying on her exposed flesh.
“Need more,” I murmur, then reach my hands around her back and unhook the bra. She shrugs her shoulders and the lace flutters to the counter.
Fuck yes.
Sure, I’ve seen her half-naked.
But no, I have not at all.
Because there’s Naked Mistaken Phone Answering.
And then there’s Naked Arousal.
The second comes with hardened nipples and a flushed chest and a woman so eager for my touch. “Rachel,” I mutter, my voice a dry husk on a hot summer day as I cup these glorious beauties.
She looks down at my hands, squeezing her tits, kneading the flesh.
“You have big hands,” she says, mesmerized.
“I do,” I say, but I don’t add and you have big tits. Because that’s kind of douchey. This handful is real nice though. As I play, I meet her gaze. “You feel fucking incredible.”
“I do?” she asks, and there are those nerves again. Those concerns. Maybe she’s having them because this is, obvs, our first time. Good thing I can reassure her from the bottom of my heart and cock.
“God yes,” I tell her.
She lets out a long sigh, maybe of relief. Whatever worries she had seem to have faded away.
Maybe I didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Maybe I just needed to show her my desire.
I will gladly show her with my mouth, and my dick, and my hands, and my words. I spend another minute adoring her tits with my hands, rolling her nipples between my fingers, letting my thumbs travel over, up, and under till she’s panting and moaning. I kiss her breasts again and again, sucking on them, caressing them with my tongue and lips till she’s gasping for air.