The Legacy – Off-Campus Read Online Elle Kennedy

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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Man, I miss playing hockey. Never knew what to expect.

As we eat, Hannah tells Allie the news she’d already shared with me the other day: she’s going to be spending the summer in the studio with an up-and-coming rapper. Along with being a talented songwriter, Hannah’s also been working with several music producers, and she’d recently written and co-produced a hit single for singing superstar Delilah Sparks, which opened a ton of doors for her.

Allie grins. “I’m having a hard time picturing you writing hip-hop lyrics.”

“God, imagine? But no, just producing some beats and writing some of the choruses. They’re bringing in this amazing new singer for one song. I cannot wait to get in the studio with her. She’s only fifteen.”

We chat for a while longer, but soon my patience wears thin. It’s been three days since I’ve seen my girlfriend, and I’m dying to get her alone. I think I’m still riding a high from the knowledge of that velvet box in my bag upstairs. I was never into all that romance shit, but I swear, picturing that ring on Allie’s finger gets me a little hard.

The moment we’re alone in the upstairs guest room, my lips are on hers and I’m kissing her like a starved man. Allie kisses me back just as hungrily. When I cup her ass and lift her up, she wraps her legs around me and drags her nails down the front of my shirt. Her hot, eager body is so tempting, I almost fuck her right there against the wall, but she pulls away the moment I reach for the button of her jeans.

“Ugh, I need a shower first,” she says breathlessly. “I feel so grimy. I worked all day and then boarded the flight, and now all I can smell is stale airplane coffee.”

I bury my nose in her golden hair. I kiss her, breathe her in. Strawberries and roses. The scent was custom made for her by someone her late mom once knew.

“You smell great,” I correct. The thing about women is, they hold themselves to a much higher standard than you hold them to.

“Shower,” she says firmly.

“Fine. But only if I can join.”

Her blue eyes turn smoky. “Deal.”

A few minutes later we’re naked and wrapped up in each other under the warm spray. I soap her up, playing with her full tits before sliding my hand between her legs and cupping warm, slippery paradise. I bend my head to kiss her, then bring my mouth to her ear so she can hear me over the rush of water.

“I want to fuck you right here. Will you let me?”

“Uh-huh.” She makes a noise that’s half moan, half whimper. Then she turns around, and the sight of her perky round ass almost makes me come on the spot.

We know from experience that this is the best way we can enjoy sex in the shower. If I’m holding her up, she’s too paranoid I’ll slip and drop her, and so she never gets into it. In this position, both of us have our feet planted on the ground and we both get what we need.

I grip my aching dick and run it along the crease of her ass. She shivers despite the heat of the shower. I press the palm of my other hand on her tailbone before teasingly skimming it upward along the bumps of her spine.

“I missed you,” I say thickly. It’s been three torturous days, and I hate being away from her.

“Missed you too,” she whispers back.

It’s almost pathetic how much I love this girl. How much I crave her. After we hooked up for the first time in college, the craziest thing happened—my dick stopped responding to anyone but Allie. And that’s pretty much been the case ever since. I find plenty of other women attractive, but the only woman I want to sleep with is the one who’s currently in front of me, jutting her ass out in an unspoken plea to fuck her.

When I enter her, we both moan. I move slowly at first, but there’s no chance in hell I’m maintaining that pace. I need her too much, and the sounds she’s making are too much of a turn-on. I barely last three slow strokes before my hips move of their own accord and I’m pounding into her with abandon. Breathing hard, I reach one arm around her and cup her breasts, squeeze one, play with the nipple, which contracts and springs against my thumb. I bring my other hand to the juncture of her thighs and rub her clit until her back arches and I know she’s close.

“Deeper,” she orders in that bossy tone I love to hear from her during sex.

And because I aim to please, I tilt my hips forward and change the angle, giving her the deep strokes she wants. Her breathy noises echo in the stall, mingling with the steam surrounding us. Her gasp of pleasure is all I need. I quickly follow suit, coming inside her. As I recover from the mind-blowing release, I’m too sated to move, so I just stand there, holding her tight to my chest, my face pressed to the back of her neck. Perfection. This girl is perfect.


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