Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Well, if they had any doubts about what we were doing in here before, I don’t think they do now.
Spitting out the sock immediately precedes a small giggle. “What happened to we had to be quiet?”
“Rules changed.” Slater crashes his mouth on top of mine rather than letting me out of the compromising position. One soft spin rolls its way into two and two lures me into a third. Having his tongue whirl around so slowly and sweetly and lovingly makes it easy to forget about the cum that’s beginning to seep along my inner thigh. When he finally pries his lips from mine, it’s more than apparent he’s pleased about the whole thing considering the glint in his gaze. He pulls all the way out at the same time he asks, “Think Santa will give me what I really want for Christmas this year?”
“Probably.” Reaching for a nearby, freshly washed towel, I tease, “I mean you have been a rather good boy playing real life action hero this season.”
He lightly chuckles and commandeers the cleaning of our mess.
“I take it whatever it is, it’s not on the list we exchanged the day after Thanksgiving.” I watch him glide my red and white polka dot “Ho Ho Ho” boy short underwear into place. “Which is rude because we both know I’ve been going religiously off that list. After last year’s book flop-”
“It wasn’t a flop.”
“You hated it!”
“No, I hated the jellyfish lava lamp you got me four years ago,” he informs during his step back to let me wiggle my distressed black jeans into place. “That visual history book about arms and armor was actually quite fascinatin’ and explained how some of our more modern techniques came about.”
Pulling the zipper up is attached to another playful expression. “Does that mean you didn’t accidentally break that lamp?”
“I won’t lie to you, Angel Cake.”
A tilted head is presented in response to inform him I’m listening.
“So, I won’t answer.”
We continue redressing ourselves around warm laughter. “See, now you belong on Santa’s naughty list.”
“For what I plan to do to you the minute I get home, I think he might wanna reserve me a permanent space.”
It’s practically impossible not to whimper.
I know we probably can’t keep up this pace forever, but I just want it in our file that I love how much he can’t seem to get enough of me. I’ve never been with a guy who wanted me so constantly and obsessively that I just knew with one look across a dinner table that the only thing he was hungry for was me.
Kolby didn’t seem to notice but then again, he’s like a stray dog. If you simply put food in front of him – doesn’t even have to be good food – the guy’s occupied until the very last bite on the table has been cleared.
Particularly by him.
“Okay, Cowboy.” Flipping my dark locks out of my bright, chunky evergreen sweater, I inquire in a more serious fashion. “What is it you really want for Christmas this year?”
He reaches for the sock I spit out earlier. “You pregnant.”
Shock sends my jaw to my bare toes. “What?!”
The lack of rebuttal only spurs more surprise to shoot through my system.
“Seriously?!”
Slater’s instant nodding emphasizes just how sincere he’s being.
That this isn’t cute speak.
Or pre-sex dirty talk.
No.
He…actually means it.
And the bright blue hue his words had indicates exactly how much.
Slightly flustered, I adjust my neon yellow glasses and mumble, “Isn’t it too soon?”
Another sock is grabbed to put on the other foot.
“We haven’t even officially finished moving in together yet!”
“Your boxes are here.” His body contorts to tug on the article. “You just need to finish puttin’ your shit away.”
“That’s…over…simplifying.”
“Is it?” An impish grin is shot in my direction. “’Cause I’ve already ordered paint for the accent wall and new shelvin’ for the closet and washed all your bright pink towels Mattel could sue you over.”
“They don’t own the color pink.”
“You talkin’ statistically or socially?”
The rebuttal has me hesitating to reply.
He brings up a good point.
Maybe they don’t own the color per se; however, if you factor in social stock, my boyfriend may actually be onto something.
“Angel Cake,” Slater sweetly interrupts the runaway notes in my head, “you’re here. You’ve moved in. You jus’ gotta finish makin’ it our home.”
My body thoughtlessly braces itself against the counter. “Okay, but should we really be thinking or even discussing babies at this point? I mean we’re not even technically engaged yet.”
“We’re pre-engaged.”
“That’s not a real thing!”
Without hesitation, he curls his fingers around mine and lifts up my hand to expose the dangling bracelet. “Looks pretty real to me.”
Scrunching my nose causes my glasses to slip down.
“Look, I’m not tryin’ to rush things, Arley.” Our fingers fold together. “I’m jus’ sayin’ I know what I want.” His grip gets lovingly tighter as he pulls me closer. “What I’ve always wanted. And that’s a life with you.” Slater pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “House. Kids. Pets. Holidays. Vacations. All of it.” His bashful grin precedes blinding bright blue waves of words. “Pretty much everything we’ve always had and then a little more.”