Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
She’s all that matters, with her gorgeous smile and tempting body, her heart which belongs to me.
I type out another message, my thumbs moving too quickly, telling her all the things I want to do to her –
I’m going to lie you on your back, Danielle, and then slowly pull down your pants. I want you to feel every single movement, feel the fabric brush against your skin, so that your needy pussy starts to get excited. I want you soaked when I finally drag my tongue across your eager young slit.
I delete that too, my head foggy, as though some demon has taken possession of me.
What the hell am I thinking, even typing something like this? What if I accidentally pressed send, and then Max saw it?
That sounds great, I write instead. I look forward to seeing what you come up with. I’ve heard you’re clever and savvy when it comes to marketing, so I’m sure it will be good X
As a teenager, cell phones had yet to make their effect known to the world. They existed, of course, but I never had one. And yet I know this is how teenage boys must feel, debating leaving a kiss at the end of their message.
The thought is absolutely insane. Debating leaving a kiss, like we’re going to be lovers one day. Like it wouldn’t atom-bomb the only true friendship I’ve ever known.
I click send, the kiss intact, then stand and walk over to the window.
The city is dark, the lights glistening, but I know where Danielle lives. I know she’s on the other side of the lights, in the suburbs, a forty-five-minute drive with this late-night traffic.
My body is so tense, and my muscles are pressing firmly against my skin as though trying to break free. My head aches with the effort of calming myself down.
Part of me wants to return to Facebook to find more photos of Danielle, but I know that would be a mistake.
I’m rock-hard now just thinking about that photo, her full cleavage begging to be caressed, her young body aching to be possessed.
By me, only me.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Clever and savvy? Ha! Who did you hear that from? I’m actually the worst marketing intern you’ll ever meet.
I smirk, letting out a chuckle, imagining her tossing her head sassily as she says these words. Since it’s late, maybe she’s wearing her PJs, skimpy shorts that will reveal the thick lusciousness of her thighs.
Or maybe she’s just in her underwear, her bra clinging to her beautiful big breasts, her hair all messy…and yet ready to get messier when I claim her.
I don’t believe you. I heard one of your videos got 750,000 views.
She starts typing back straight away.
My heart is beating far too aggressively, but right now, neither of us has said anything that could give Max pause. The only thing is the kiss at the end of the messages, but Max might just see that as friendliness.
Suddenly, my stomach twists.
Here I am, already thinking of how to spin this to Max. My best friend.
Yeah, that’s true, she writes back. But it was luck more than anything. There was this meme going around, and I piggy-backed off it to promote the product.
That’s not luck, Danielle. That’s seeing an opportunity and going for it.
I guess you could be right. Maybe I’m just terrible at taking compliments.
I tighten my grip around the phone, staring down at her message, the words making me want to find any bastard who’s ever hurt her and make him pay.
There’s something about her message that really makes me want to howl.
Why is she bad at taking compliments? She’s beautiful, funny, and clearly smart. Her parents are good people and have always supported her.
So that leaves the assholes of the world, the ones who’d mistake the glorious curviness of her body for something else. Something that would lead them to say cruel and untrue things.
When you start work at my restaurant, I’m sure you’ll get over that quickly.
Why, because you’ll have no reason to compliment me?
My cock pulses, pressing against my boxers. Glancing down, I see the massive outline pushing through the fabric, so hard I’m sure I can see the fainter outline of veins as my huge length engorges even more.
There are so many reasons to compliment her.
Countless.
No, I text back. Because I know you’re going to do great.
How could you know that?
Because you’re worried that you won’t, and you clearly care. You seem humble. These are all good signs for success.
Three dots appear on the screen and then vanish.
The predator piece of me imagines her biting her lip, her youthful cheeks flushed as she debates what to send. The helm of my cock is leaking hot precome, urging me to find her dripping pussy and slip inside, take her possessively, tenderly, savagely all at once. Fuck her like we belong together.