Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Then the message Leslie sent but Silvan never bothered to even read.
My lips form a natural pout and I look down at Silvan’s smug, handsome face. “Find what you were looking for?”
“Yes.”
“Since we’re exchanging passwords, I’d like the one to your computer,” he tells me.
My initial impulse is to say no, but I guess there’s no reason to. It’s not like I have anything top-secret on my laptop. “Binx389.”
“Binx?”
I nod, “Like the cat in Hocus Pocus. I had a black cat named that when I was a kid.”
His lips curve up. “You like cats?”
“I do.”
“Maybe we should get one.”
My eyes light up. “Really?”
He nods. “Why not?”
He hauls me aside so he can sit up. My gaze drifts down to his cock hanging between his thighs and I have to stifle the urge to touch it.
“Why were you cool with giving me your pass code?” I ask instead, redirecting my attention to more important matters.
“Why not?” He stands up, absently rubs his abdomen, then heads for the kitchen. “You want a cold water?”
“Yes, please.” I gasp, realizing I forgot to take my stupid birth control again. “Shoot,” I mutter to myself, standing and heading for the bathroom so I can get it.
Is it better to take it six hours late or to skip a day and take it tomorrow?
Stupid pills.
I open the little case they came in and draw one of the rounded rectangular tablets out. The pill casing is sweet, so I don’t mind leaving it on my tongue as I head back to the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” Silvan asks, handing me the water he grabbed for me.
I nod, uncapping it and taking a sip to wash the pill down. “I keep forgetting about my birth control. I’m not in the habit of taking it yet. I really wish you’d wear condoms at least until I get better at this and get it working in my system.”
He locks an arm around my waist, pulling me close and walking me backward. “Why?”
“Because we should probably have a cat before we have a baby.”
He smirks. “But you’re finally coming around to the acceptance that we’re going to have a baby someday. I’m calling it progress.”
“I’m calling you crazy,” I return lightly.
“Maybe.” He leans down and steals a kiss, still walking me backward. “What kind of cat are we getting?”
“I don’t know. We’ll go to a shelter. Plenty of abandoned kitties in need of homes. Can we get one before Christmas?”
“We’ll go next weekend.”
“Why not this weekend?”
“I have something planned this weekend.”
“Oh yeah? Am I invited to this something?”
He smirks. “You are. My family has some property up in New Hampshire, we like to visit around this time of year for hunting trips. They won’t be there this weekend, but I thought we’d head up Friday night and spend the weekend there, enjoy a little uninterrupted alone time.”
“How long’s the drive?”
“About an hour.”
I crack a smile. “Our first mini road trip.”
A mysterious smile tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. We’re in the bedroom now, so he kicks the door closed behind us and walks me over to the bed.
“But right now, I think these lovely tits want my attention.”
“Oh, do they?” I murmur as he picks me up and places me on the bed, climbing on with me and then hauling me closer to the middle.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, dipping down and kissing the soft swell of my breasts.
I sigh with pleasure, but still tease him. “I think they get an awful lot of your attention.”
“They deserve it.”
I laugh softly and then my eyes widen as he slides a hand down between my thighs. His insatiable fingers find my wetness and I grab his wrist to stop him. “Silvan Koch.”
“Sophie Bradwell,” he tosses right back in a playfully mocking tone.
“You do not need to fuck me again. It’s bedtime.”
“Need? Maybe not. Want…?”
“Silvan, don’t you dare,” I say on a squeal as he tickles me, then drops down and pries my clenched thighs apart.
My playful objections fall on deaf ears, and moments later, I’m too swept up to care.
___
Wednesday comes and goes without a single change in his behavior, then Thursday does, too.
By Friday, I’m convinced he doesn’t actually listen to whatever the spy pens pick up, or maybe they’re not even spy pens to begin with. I suppose it’s possible my mind was playing tricks on me, that I was imagining a microphone when really it was just a part of the pen.
Whatever the case, my anxiety about the fake phone call eases and I allow myself to just enjoy my new favorite pens instead of being suspicious of them. I did want to order more of those pens for myself, anyway. Maybe it was just Silvan noticing I liked those pens and providing more of them for me in true Silvan style.