Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I stalk over to her, my heart beating so fast as I push away the thought that she was gone. I grab her face, and she just looks at me. “I woke up, and you weren’t there,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “I thought …”
“I was making us coffee,” she tells me, her hands going to my waist. “I wanted to bring you coffee in bed.”
My lips crush hers, and I kiss her frantically as if it’s our last kiss. I pull the shirt off her, the need to have her naked under me is the only thing I can think of. “Jacob.” I pick her up, placing her on the kitchen table. She feels my need to touch her, and just like that, she gives it to me with no questions asked. When I collapse on top of her, she lets me lie here, playing with my hair. “Well, that is one way to say good morning,” she says, making me laugh, and I kiss her in the middle of her chest.
“I’ll go clean up and make you breakfast,” I say, slipping out of her.
“That sounds like a plan,” she says, getting off the table. “I’ll disinfect the table.” I look at her over my shoulder. “Your son eats at that table.” I roll my lips. “And my ass was just on that table.” She shakes her head, walking over to pick up the T-shirt that I threw.
“You keep bending over in front of me, you’ll be disinfecting the whole house.” She cocks her head. “Especially that wall.” I point at the empty wall where I’m going to take her against when we come home.
“Promises, promises, McIntyre.” She winks at me and walks to my bedroom.
“Fuck,” I say silently to myself.
“What?” Her head pops around the corner. I look at her. “What happened?”
“I’m happy,” I say. “This is what it must feel like to be happy.” Shaking my head, I say, “I have an appointment at ten.”
“Oh, I can be out of here in twenty.” She smiles at me, and I just look at her, and she stops. “What now?”
“You’re coming with me,” I say, walking to her. She waits for me, and we walk to my bedroom together.
“Well, where are we going?” she asks. Going to the bathroom, she takes off the shirt and starts the shower at the same time I take off my boxers.
“It’s a surprise,” I say and step into the shower. I leave the glass door open for her to step in, and she stands there, leaning on one of the sinks. “Are you not coming in?”
“If I come in there,” she says, pointing at the shower, “it’s going to lead to things.”
I try not to laugh. “What kind of things?”
“Well, for one, I’m going to get on my knees,” she says, and my cock stirs. “Then I’m going to sit you on that little bench.” She points at the bench against the wall. “And I’m going to want to ride you.”
“I see nothing wrong with anything that you just said.” I turn to face her, and her eyes roam up and down my body.
“But then I won’t get breakfast.” She folds her arms over her chest.
“I have a compromise. We get breakfast to go, and everyone wins,” I say, holding out my hands.
“Fine,” she says, stepping into the shower as if I twisted her arm, “but we have to make this quick. I still have to clean the table.”
I laugh at her, and she gets on her knees, taking me all the way back into her throat. It doesn’t go as fast as she wants, and when I get out after her, she’s already dried off with her hair wrapped in a towel. “I need coffee,” she says, walking out of the room. When I finally get dressed and walk into the kitchen, she has two coffee cups on the counter, and she is wiping down the kitchen table with a bottle of Lysol.
“You ready?” I ask her and walk to the table in the living room, grabbing the piece of paper that I need.
“I have my mother’s truck,” she says, opening the cupboards in the kitchen and looking for a thermos.
“We can drop it off now or later,” I say, walking to her and kissing her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says softly. Putting a hand on my stomach, she leans up again, and this time, it’s her who kisses me softly.
“Let’s go, baby,” I say, and we walk out with her at my side. She is wearing the same thing she wore yesterday. “You need to bring over your stuff.”
“What stuff?” she asks, walking to the passenger side of the truck, and I press the button to unlock the doors.
I get in at the same time as she does, putting my coffee in the center console, and buckling up. “Your clothes and stuff.”