Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
How he was going to make me come.
In that moment, it didn’t matter that Brady was my boss, or Henry’s son, or a stranger who seemed to want nothing more than to breeze out of my life as quickly as he’d entered it.
It didn’t matter that in reality, I was full of conflicting emotions, that I wasn’t sure if my bad choices and bad luck in love would ever let me fall for another man as hard and completely as I’d fallen before, or if I even wanted to try again.
It didn’t matter that Brady almost certainly wasn’t interested in me like that, anyway.
The only thing that mattered was the present moment—the escape, the release, the waves of pleasure that were already threatening to overtake me.
Brady would know just how to push me over the edge, too.
My fingers stopped thrusting into my pussy for a moment, staving off my impending orgasm, and I slid my other hand—Brady’s hand, Brady’s hand—down behind me, smoothing it over my ass and dipping into the crease, letting my fingers play around and over my hole as my hips thrust forward. As I had to start fingerfucking myself again, faster and faster.
My breath hitched as the pressure on my most sensitive places sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My core started to tighten up, and Brady knew—fantasy-Brady—he knew exactly what I needed.
His large, rough hands—one taking charge of my pussy as the other pressed gently but insistently against that tight ring of muscle.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, my climax building inside me so hard and fast that I couldn't have stopped it if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t. What I wanted was Brady. Wanted his hands, his body, his mouth.
His cock.
I wanted Brady to fuck me and take my virginity.
My hips bucked wildly, and I let out a long, low moan that I could only pray the shower masked. I was right at the edge… right… there. My hands moved in a blur, stroking myself toward a kind of release that I hadn’t had in longer than I could remember—the kind that might wreck me—and then I was teetering right there. Ready to fall. Ready to come apart.
Unstoppable.
I gave in and slipped my finger inside with a hoarse shout. The tight heat of my ass gripped my finger tight, pulsing as I clenched and released with the power of the orgasm that crashed through me.
“Oh, God. Oh, Brady,” I panted, almost whimpering as I came.
For several long seconds, I kept my eyes closed, letting the aftershocks course through my body in warm waves of pleasure that made me feel boneless.
That had been… wow. I hadn’t let myself really go like that in, maybe ever?
When my pussy finally stopped throbbing, I forced my eyes open, leaning against the tile and watching the water swirl down the drain. It had already washed away the evidence of my fantasy, but I was still trying to catch my breath, still relaxed and feeling better than I had in a long time as my body came down from the sexy-football player-induced high.
My legs were shaky, and I wasn’t sure if I could even walk after the intensity of the orgasm I’d just experienced, but the quick shock of cold when the last bit of hot water ran out finally got me moving.
I had no idea how long I’d been in the shower, but it must have been a while for the water to have turned so frigid. And as good as I felt, no matter how hot my fantasy of Brady had been, having it doused—quite literally—with cold water might have been for the best.
It was just a fantasy, and the reality of Brady’s presence in my life was a hell of a lot more complicated.
But God, I was exhausted. I didn't want to figure it out or think about it or worry any more tonight. And maybe, now that I’d let myself do this, I’d get my wish. Maybe I’d actually be able to go to bed without thinking about the infuriating, maddening, too-damn-sexy-to-stay-mad-at hottie, now that I’d gotten him out of my system.
Maybe.
But… probably not.
I sighed as I reached for the towel and began drying my body, shivering a little as I stepped out of the shower and onto the cheerful sunflower bathmat.
I wasn’t even fooling myself. Brady wasn’t out of my system. And while I might have been able to fool my body into thinking it had been his hands touching me, I couldn’t fool my mind about real-life-Brady’s very real intentions any more than I could forget about them.
Not even for one night.
Brady was a good guy. I didn’t doubt that at all. But that didn’t change the fact that he was planning on doing something that would turn my whole world upside down, would take away the one place I’d felt secure and happy and wanted and… needed for the past few years.