Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
This place may be two miles from the shop, but it's still suburban paradise. The driveway across the street proves it—a Tesla next to a luxury Soccer Mom SUV. Or maybe it's a Soccer Dad SUV. I shouldn't stereotype.
"Holden?" Daisy presses the pads of her fingertips into my skin. "Are you okay?"
No. I'm this close to dying of blue balls. She spends the summer at her dad's house. Which means her dad is there every night and all fucking weekend. Sure, his life is a bit more hectic now that he's—
That's a story for another time.
And all that shit with Oliver and Luna—
Fuck, I'm getting distracted. But it's good. Brings the blood back to my brain.
I need the help. I haven't fucked her properly in days. She's been busy with summer assignments. I've been working nonstop. Her dad's been home every fucking night.
So we—
Shit, blood leaving brain.
Thoughts dissolving.
"You look too good in that dress." My eyes go straight to her tits. Which does nothing to alleviate the situation. But then I'm starting to lose interest in remedies.
Her cheeks flush. "Thanks. I, uh… it's new."
"I know."
"The uh…" She swallows hard. "It's very—" She runs her fingers down the neckline. Then she pulls the top. Aside. Just barely. Just enough I see the lace of her pastel pink bra.
"You're gonna kill me, kid."
"I know."
"You know?" I bring my hand to her waist. "You want your boyfriend dead?"
"You want me to stop?"
"No."
"Seems like an impasse." She smiles.
"It does." I nod.
"Hmm…" She plays coy. "How are we going to solve it?"
"How are we?"
Her smile widens. "I do have one idea—"
I tap my key fob. "Get in the car. I'm gonna fuck you the second we're alone."
"In the car?"
"Alone alone." I press my hand into her lower back.
"How alone is that?"
"You want to debate? Or you want to come on my cock?"
Daisy's eyes go wide as she steps into Inked Love. She takes in the pink string lights. The framed art. The clear counter.
Her throat quivers as she swallows. "You… Are we… Really…" Her eyes dart around the room. "Now?"
The shades are already down. The only light is the yellow-white of the bulbs. Not fluorescent. Something fancier, that lasts longer and uses less electricity.
It's nicer too. Closer to sunlight. To true shades.
Makes it easier to judge the look of ink on someone's skin.
Not that I'm checking colors tonight. I already know she wants this in black. Even if she's not ready to admit it.
"Do you really—" She stammers. Taps her toes together. She's in wedges today. They're white. They're tall enough they bring us eye to eye.
I wrap my arm around her waist. Lead her to the counter.
"Holden—"
"Baby, you okay?"
"Do you really want to—"
"It's up to you."
She swallows hard. "I don't know."
"I do. But if you're not ready, if you're too scared, if you're not sure—"
"I'm sure. I just—"
"I'll walk you through it."
"After, right?"
"After?" This time, I play coy.
She clears her throat. Motions to the counter.
We've fucked here a million times. Sometimes she hangs out at the shop. Sometimes, I don't have the patience to wait until we're at my place.
There's something about doing it here.
It's illicit.
Sexy as fuck.
"After…" Her voice slips to that innocent tone of hers. That Mr. Ballard, whatever do you mean one.
It's too fucking sexy.
She really is going to kill me.
But what a way to go.
"After…" Her fingers curl into the hem of my t-shirt. Slip under it. She presses her palm flat against my stomach. "I come on your cock."
Fuck me. "Yes."
She pulls my t-shirt over my head and places it on the counter.
I push it to the floor. Switch our positions.
She groans as I pin her to the counter. "Holden—"
"Yeah, baby?"
"I'm gonna miss you."
"We have a week."
"I know, but—"
"Not yet." I drag my lips over her neck. "Nothing sad on your birthday."
"It's been a year."
"I know."
"A year since I kissed you."
"Since you gave me a fucking strip tease. Since you tried to kill me from blue balls."
Her blush spreads to her chest. "I, uh…"
"Aren't drunk enough to repeat it?"
"Well…" She presses her palm to my bare chest. For a second, she runs her fingers over my tattoo—I swear to God, she's obsessed with it—then she pushes the heel of her hand into my skin.
It's soft. A gesture. Move so I can strip.
I step back.
Daisy takes a deep breath as she unzips her dress.
She slides her left sleeve off her shoulder.
Then the right.
She catches the dress at her chest. Then she releases her arms.
The fabric falls to her ankles.
My gaze goes straight to her pink panties. They match her bra. Same hue. Same lace trim.
"You wear that for me, baby?" I try to hold on to conscious thought. To remember what I'm doing here.
Then she does away with her bra and my thoughts dissolve.
She stares into my eyes as she pushes her panties to her ankles.