Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I want a full report on Aiden and his hair,” I say.
“You’ll get it…and I’m seriously happy for you.”
Me too. Though I’m also realistic enough to know it won’t last. That karma is simply sprinkling this glittery stuff for a little while and soon it’ll end.
But I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
When I return to Hayes’s penthouse that evening, I find gifts and a note. I follow the instructions to the letter. I slick on the red lipstick they left, then I slip into the white lace bikini panties and the demi-cup bra. Next, I slide on the thigh-high white stockings they bought for me.
I follow the first instruction.
Gaze at my reflection in the bedroom mirror for a minute.
I look…seductive. I look sexy. I look like someone who owns her pleasure.
I follow the second instruction.
Tease yourself with the toy before taking off the panties.
I return to the bed, turning on the vibrator to a low setting. I press it over my panties.
The pulse is subtle, a tease of vibration, but my toes start to curl. The tempting buzz tightens my belly. A door clicks open.
Two sets of footsteps echo against the tiles outside the bedroom, then slow and stop. My men fill the doorway. They don’t move though. With darkened eyes, they watch me play with myself.
Hayes stalks over to me, yanks off my panties, then barks a command. “Bend over the bed. Now.”
Electric from the order, I scramble to the foot of the mattress, lifting my ass, then I push the toy back between my thighs and inside me.
“You like that toy, baby?” Hayes asks.
I keep working the vibrator. “I do.”
“Bet she’d like the real thing more,” Stefan says, coming up beside me, stroking my hair, pushing it to one side of my face as he runs a thumb along my top lip.
I quiver as I ease out the toy, turning it off and tossing it on the bed. “Please fuck me.”
They don’t take off their clothes. They just take out their cocks.
Hayes covers himself, then notches the head against me as Stefan gets on the bed and kneels, shoving down his boxer briefs, offering me his thick cock. “That lipstick? Get it all over my dick, sweetheart,” Stefan urges.
I lick the head of his cock right as Hayes bands an arm around my waist, then takes me with punishing thrusts.
I feel helpless to the lust. Bombarded by too many sensations. My brain flatlines and I’m no longer thinking about my life, my career, where I’m going, what I’m chasing, and all the things I’ve yet to work out.
I’m not thinking at all.
This overdose of pleasure blasts through my body and mind. As Hayes works his fingers against my clit, I’m hostage to the exquisite torture of this new brand of sex where I can’t speak. Where I can’t think. Where I can only feel.
The insistent pulse, the intensifying build, then the brilliant explosion as I break apart.
It’s not until later in bed that I think again. This is going better than well.
31
PICTURE THAT
Ivy
In my right hand, I hold up a high-neck, sleeveless halter top in a red sheen fabric. In my left is a flowy V-neck cheetah-print blouse. Both are from thrift shops. “Which one for the meeting with Simone?”
Stefan slices a banana at the kitchen counter and studies both options, then nods to the ruby-red one. “Very stylish,” he says, then grimaces. “I think? Is that the right answer?”
I laugh from the other side of the bench. “You’re the one who wanted to see what I was going to wear.”
“When I said give me a fashion show, I thought I’d get to see you changing,” he says, a teasing spark in his eyes.
“Pervert,” I mutter.
From the tiled kitchen floor, Roxy seconds me with a bark before she returns to watching Stefan, with please-drop-a-slice-of-banana dreams in her doggy eyes. Stefan is wearing lounge pants and nothing else. I’m staring at him, too, but with do me in my eyes.
Hayes, naturally, is sleeping. He does not get up early. Which works for me because Stefan’s become my morning companion. He’s an early riser too.
“I like to think of myself more as an aficionado,” Stefan says, switching to slice up some kale leaves, then adds, “of you.”
This man. I swear he’s some kind of feel-good elixir. It’s Monday morning, and we’re at Hayes’s apartment. The guys fly to Detroit tomorrow, then to Chicago. By now, their teammates know Hayes and I eloped. That’s what we told them, which is all anyone needs to know.
I’m meeting Simone later this morning to discuss wedding coverage, and when I told Stefan I’d wear something that made me look badass, he asked to see it, so I ran downstairs to my place to grab some options.
I set both shirts down on the stool, then adjust my little dress, a cover-up kind of thing. “For what it’s worth, I like the red one too. It makes me feel…strong.”