Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“Fuck, sweet thing, you’re going to make me come. Are you going to swallow for me?”
I nod the best I can but mostly communicate with my eyes, Of course I fucking am. I’m desperate to taste him. I’ve heard so many stories from girls about how guys’ cum tastes—so many jokes about whether you should spit or swallow—and I already know I’m not going to be one of those-girls that spits. I’m just not.
“Hell yeah, baby,” he growls, tightening his grip on my hair.
I reach up and cradle his balls, purely out of instinct. This seems to drive him crazy. His eyelids flutter, and he groans, signaling a deep pleasure before the release arrives.
The warm, salty mess spills all over my tongue, splashing everywhere, coating the insides of my cheeks as it sprays from the tip of his massive cock. I instantly swallow and scoff internally at whatever girls ever complained about the taste of cum. Mal keeps coming, and I can’t get enough of it.
“Fuck,” he growls, his cock throbbing as he sprays more of his deliciousness into my mouth. I keep swallowing obediently until there’s nothing left to swallow, then wait there until he releases the firm grip he has on my hair and breathes out a pleasingly masculine sigh of relief.
The head of his cock creates an almost amusing little popping sound as it slips out from between my lips. I smile as I stand and am pulled into his arms.
“You like that?” I whisper.
“Do pigs love apples?”
“I—I don’t know. Do they?” He probably thinks I’m giving him a hard time again, but I legitimately don’t know.
Mal simply chuckles in response and kisses me right on the forehead as he smooths my hair back. He takes me by the hand and leads me over toward the couch, but before we get there, I break the news to him.
“Actually, I should probably have you take me home now if you don’t mind,” I say, making it sound like I totally have some things I need to do, which I do not. Again, I really don’t want to be that girl that overstays her welcome.
“Oh?” Mal asks, looking surprised. “Busy day today?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “And I don’t wanna get in your hair.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be in my hair–”
He’s being nice. I can tell. “Bigtime sleazy landlord like you?” I tease. “I’m sure you have tons of clients to take advantage of.”
“Hey!”
I reach into his pocket and pull out his cell. “Why don’t I just leave you my number, and if you want to get in touch with me, you can?”
“If?” Mal asks, a smirk on his face. I respond with a shrug.
“Hey, you never know with you guys. Maybe I’ll never see you again.”
* * *
When Mal pulls up to my apartment, part of me wants to say, Hey just kidding, I’m staying for the rest of the day! But that would be insane. So I just lean over the center console, kiss him, then get out and go inside, feeling like I’m wrapped up in a heating blanket as I take the stairs to my apartment unit.
“I’m home!” I announce as I march into the living room and throw myself down onto the couch. Normally, I’m met by a Welcome back, bitch! Or a sarcastic Who cares? from my roommate Bianca, but today, I’m met with the delightful greeting of silence.
“Hello?” I call out again. I saw her car downstairs in the parking lot, so unless her boyfriend came and picked her up (which would be strange considering he should be at work), she should be here. Finally, I hear the sound of footsteps coming from her bedroom and look up to see her come into the room looking like she’s either had a very bad morning or has something she needs to tell me—which puts a big damper on my big story to tell for this morning.
“Go first,” I say.
“What?”
“I can tell you have something you want to tell me,” I reply. “So go first, because mine’s going to tell a while.”
“Oh,” Bianca replies. She doesn’t even smile, so whatever it is, it must be bad. I’m kind of worried, to be honest. She’s not great at dealing with emotional trauma in her life. “Well, this is your thirty-day-notice.”
It takes me a second to comprehend just what it is she’s saying. But then it hits me. Thirty-day-notice. This bitch is giving me thirty days to get out of the apartment—which is technically her apartment as she’s the one on the lease—and find a new place to live. And to think I was just worried about how she was doing.
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask, but I know she isn’t.
Bianca’s eyes are focused on her toes. She always was a little scaredy-cat. “Jeff proposed to me, and he wants us to live together, so…”