Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
The way her eyes roll back, the way her chest heaves. The little pants of breath as she rushes toward release. Reaching my hand between us, I circle her clit with my finger, working her toward orgasm.
Her moans grow more frantic, so I increase the tempo, fucking her relentlessly as I work her over with my hand.
Her pussy clenches around my cock. It’s a telltale sign she’s about to come.
I pick up my pace, my movements growing frantic and fierce until my balls tighten as her walls spasm around me.
“Fuck.” I groan, and she moans at the word. “Come all over my cock.” And she does; she explodes around me, squeezing my dick to the point of pain. “Fuck,” I repeat as I follow her over the edge before collapsing on top of her.
Yep . . . I could die like this.
35
Mallory
@Stargossip: The sun is finally shinning. And sources tell me our two favorite agents have been hiding from their clients . . . together.
@ZFleftBallSac: No way. Paxton would never.
@Lexi_H: Damn, Paxton woke up and chose boner.
@Deathtothesystem: I thought we got lucky, and they all washed away.
@Bitchpleaseme: @Deathtothesystem You’re alive?
@Deathtothesystem: Sadly.
Like all good things, our time in seclusion must end. The storm has passed—a thousand years later, so it seems— and last night the power was restored to the island.
Which means back to work today, something I’m not looking forward to.
This bubble with Paxton has allowed me to relax for the first time since I started my company and took on Teagan as a client two years ago.
I’ve realized that I’m severely overworked.
Completely self-induced. Not that it makes it any better.
I give my all to Teagan, which I don’t regret, but it’s exhausting.
Now that I’m rested, it’s time to get back to my life.
Which brings me to the here and now, leaving this hut and heading to craft services.
“So . . .” Things need to be said, but I don’t know how to broach this topic. My cheeks feel warm, but I press on. “What should we do?”
“About?” Paxton asks, eyes focused on his phone. He doesn’t even look up at me.
“Umm, us.” I want to roll my eyes. What else does he think I’m talking about? Men. “We can’t let anyone know about us.”
“You’re right. We can’t.”
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the chest. That he’s willing to hide our relationship in the shadows doesn’t sit well with me.
Despite knowing Paxton has to agree with me, I can’t help but feel hurt that, after the days we spent together, he’s not even trying to object.
Not even a little.
Is it too much to ask for him to become one of those crazy, possessive heroes that I read about in books? The type who demands I tell everyone about us. The one who claims to the universe that I’m his and throws me over his shoulder to carry me off into the sunset?
Too much?
Probably, but a girl can dream.
Deep in my soul, I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. We don’t have a choice, but I want something more. Something concrete, and we haven’t discussed anything close to that.
I’m left feeling uncertain, and that sucks.
Will we continue whatever this is after the movie wraps? Is this just an island fling?
None of those things can matter to us right now. We both know that after all the drama this film has endured, it’s best that no one finds out. The risk of a leak is too great.
I can already imagine the tweets.
Teagan Steward got the role in Twisted Lily because her agent is sleeping with the competition . . .
Yep, this will be staying a secret.
“It will be okay.” Paxton squeezes my hand reassuringly.
Despite his words, as I nod, I can’t help but feel my stomach bottom out.
I hate this.
It’s the way it has to be.
We’ll keep our relationship hidden in plain sight till the end of production, and then we can decide what comes next.
With that settled, Paxton and I walk to the door of the hut, and before he opens it, he turns to place a kiss on the top of my head. I melt into the gesture, feeling a modicum of relief. It doesn’t have to end . . . yet.
We head toward camp, and his hand falls casually to my hand and then drops just as fast. He can’t do that anymore. Not unless he wants us to get caught.
And neither of us wants that.
So instead of holding hands or sneaking affectionate glances, we walk side by side back down the path to craft services in silence.
The air around us swirls with the tension of two people trying their hardest to keep a secret hidden. But no matter how hard we try, I can’t help but feel like, soon enough, the secret won’t be a secret anymore.