Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
After winking at me, he yanks his boxer shorts to his knees, then sheaths the monster I’m staring at with my mouth hanging open. Mercifully, he can multitask. He discovers the date on the packaging of the untouched metallic discs just as the condom reaches the base of his dick.
With the manufacturing date showing they were recently made, he says, “We’re good to go.”
“Maybe after a year of yoga classes.” I gulp, my eyes unmoving from his crotch. “I don’t think it’s wise to place that in the hands of a novice. I don’t think even a professional would come out of an exchange like this without crying. You might need to pay extra.”
“I’ll be sure to leave a bunch of bills on the nightstand.”
Laken’s laughter about my snarl sets free the butterflies in my stomach before his actions cause a mass resurgence. After removing his shirt the standard macho way, he curls my legs around his sticky waist before lining up the head of his cock with the entrance of my pussy.
He doesn’t enter me with one powerful thrust or force tears to my eyes for any other reason than being overwhelmed by an all-encompassing orgasm. He waits until the lyrics my head hasn’t been without our entire exchange are closer to love ballads before he alters them into masterpieces.
“If he doesn’t make you happy, inspire you, or give you countless orgasms, he doesn’t deserve to be a part of your life.” As he watches me through hooded lids, he slowly enters. “So I guess I better make it three out of three.”
8
NICOLE
The heavenly scent of coffee wakes me from a peaceful slumber.
I groggily wished for an IV of caffeine an hour into our exchange, but once Laken forced another set of body-quaking orgasms out of me, I could only utter, “Intermission. We need an intermission.”
In all honesty, caffeine still isn’t in the forefront of my mind. Not even the awkward routine we’ll have to tiptoe through in the morning when I announce tonight is my last night in Ravenshoe for months.
I want to enjoy the moment. Cherish it for what it is.
A one-night stand without the sleaziness of a one-night stand.
Laken is attentive, sweet, and so determined to give me the performance of my life, he only came once for the endless number of climaxes he gifted me.
He’s tipping the axis of my world so well that instead of dreading I fell asleep in his arms, wrapped in his warmth, I’m eager for another helping of all he has to offer.
“How long was I out?” I ask, my question cut short by a deliciously achy moan.
My muscles are stiffer than my greeter’s snapped reply, “Since you’re meant to be resting, let’s hope a minimum of eight hours.”
When I crack open an eye, the amused watch of my manager startles me more than the brightness of the early morning sun.
“Knox.” While scanning my surroundings to ensure we’re the only two people present on the rooftop, I scoop up the bedding until it sits under my chin, grateful that the high thread count sheets aren’t the only material brushing against my chest.
I’m still wearing a nightie.
After assuring myself my encounter with Laken wasn’t a dream—my body is too deliriously sore for it to have been fictional—I ask, “What are you doing here?”
Knox scrubs at the shadow on his jaw before slowly turning his eyes to me. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He drops his eyes to the teasing curve of my cleavage before he stuffs his hands into his pockets and strolls to the ledge of the rooftop. I realize the coffee I was smelling must have been bounding out of his mouth when his distance returns the scent I was sucking in before I crashed.
The delicious fragrance of raunchy sex.
After a beat, Knox spins to face me. Suspicion is rife on his face, but he also appears amused. “Lesley mentioned there was a room up here, but I wasn’t aware you overheard our conversation.”
“The bellhop gave it away,” I partially lie. He told me about the hidden entrance to the presidential suite but failed to mention that the rooftop had all the equipment needed for a steamy night between the sheets. “I thought it might be a good place for inspiration to strike.”
My smile hurts when Knox asks, “Did it?”
While nodding as enthusiastically as he asked his question, I stretch for the bedside table Laken placed my songbook on when I kissed him.
I have so many lyrics swirling in my head, making me dizzy, it takes my hand slapping the varnished wood three times before I realize the table is empty.
What the?
“It has to be here somewhere.” I slip out of bed before rummaging through the sheets. It could have fallen off the nightstand. We weren’t exactly making love. The bed’s feet are no longer indenting the rug under them. They’re several inches over from their original starting point.