Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I know you can’t afford it,” he said. “Not by yourself. But I was also listening to some of the ladies in the lounge talk today about the daycare facility on campus, and how it was offered at a discounted rate to staff. And if I enroll her, I get a teacher’s discount. It cuts the cost of daycare in half, and also is about ten dollars more than what you already pay your mom for watching her every week.”
I pursed my lips in thought, staring blankly at the wall of Bowe’s chest as I thought about the positives and negatives of this deal.
“They would watch her every day of the week?” I asked, looking up into his patient eyes.
He nodded his head.
“Yes,” he said. “I got you a few brochures. They also offered to let me walk around the facility tomorrow, whenever I chose. If we went between our classes, then it should give us a good half hour to check it out.”
I nodded my head.
“I think…” I grinned. “I think that’s a really great idea. I had looked into that daycare, but it’s extortion for someone living on a student’s salary. I’m glad to see they don’t treat their staff the same way.”
He grinned.
“Now,” I smoothed my hand over the wall of his chest, then dropped it down to encompass his strong, muscled arms. “Tell me about this racing business.”
His eyes darkened, and he stooped down low, catching me behind my knees by his forearms, and deposited me onto the table.
My eyes widened as he leaned forward, pressing his denim covered erection against me. My scrub bottoms did nothing to keep the feel of him away from every part of me, and in a matter of moments, I was on the same page that Bowe was.
He skimmed his fingers down my scrub top, tickling my sides as he went.
The moment he caught the hem of my shirt, he lifted it up and over my head, scattering pens, notes, and spare change all over the floor as he did.
Neither one of us cared.
His eyes took in my breasts, which were bound tightly in a sports bra, and grinned.
“That looks painful,” he admitted, lifting his hands so he could hook his thick fingers underneath the bra’s constrictive seam, and pull it up and over my head as well.
My breasts bounced free, but he ignored them in favor of pushing me backwards.
First my ass, and then my back, hit the cool wood of my table, and I once again became thankful that I’d found such a sturdy piece of furniture. There was nothing quite like old antiques.
They could take more of a pounding—I hoped since I’d never quite tested it out this way—than newer furniture.
“I like the height of this table,” Bowe admitted. “It’s the perfect height.”
“What…”
Then he showed me by pressing his erection into me again.
Going faster once he realized just how well we aligned because of the table, he roughly yanked off my shoes, tossing them onto the floor along with the rest of my stuff.
Soon my pants, and panties followed.
For some reason, my socks stayed, but that didn’t bother me, especially when he hastily started to remove his own clothing, adding to the already messy pile of my clothes.
The moment he lowered his underwear, my eyes immediately fastened on the sight of him.
His cock.
It was a thing of beauty.
I saw a lot of cocks in my four years of nursing school, some big, some small. Others dark in tone and a few that were light.
Bowe’s, though, was the absolute perfect shade.
The thatch of pubic hair surrounding his perfect length was pitch black, and surprisingly well maintained.
Enough so that I vaguely wondered if he manscaped.
Then there was that line of hair that stretched from just below his belly button, and became thicker and thicker until it reached the hair between his legs.
His happy trail.
And man, did that trail make me happy.
Especially knowing that beautiful cock was about to be inside of me.
Countless times during the day I found myself thinking about what his cock looked like in the light of day—since the night before I’d only gotten vague impressions due to the shadowed night— and found myself nearly drooling over him under the bright lights of the kitchen.
His entire body was tanned, likely due to his Italian ancestry on his mother’s side, rather than actually being out in the sun.
Although, I could see the slightest tinge of pink on his shoulders and upper chest due to the sun exposure he’d received this afternoon and early evening.
There was no telling how long he’d been out there with his shirt off.
Then my eyes zeroed in on the tattoo.
It was a date.
Two dates.
In Roman Numerals.
Before I could figure out what they meant, though, he bent down and started pressing kisses over my stomach.