Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“You know, it’s cute that you picked number fourteen because you thought it’s how big my dick is.”
I quirk a brow. “I picked it because it’s the number of orgasms you’ve given me.”
“That’ll work too.”
I stare at him a moment, and then I put my lips to his ear and whisper, “Actually, how big is your dick?”
Him implying fourteen inches has got me thinking now. Of course I know it’s not fourteen inches like he just said because I’m pretty sure I’d be dead from impalement if it were. But his cock is the biggest I’ve ever seen in real life.
I’ve seen big cocks in porn, but it’s hard—pun intended—to compare the screen to real life, and measurements are not my thing. All I know is that a standard ruler is about twelve inches, and I don’t think it’s quite ruler-length long.
Not that I’ve seen a ruler in a long while. So, it could be, but I don’t know. And I wouldn’t even have a clue on the girth.
He turns his face to mine, dipping his chin down so his nose touches mine. “I don’t know. I’ve not measured it in a while. It might have grown since then. How about we have a little fun later, finding out?”
Oh, yes, please.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen!” the host’s voice rings out loud and clear, snapping me from my little fantasy of getting West hard with my mouth and then whipping out a tape measure. “The rules of the race are: No going inside the circle or touching the finish line. You can encourage your little racer with your voice only. Anyone who crosses even a finger over the finish line will be squirted with my water!” He waves around a squirt bottle filled with water.
Honestly, with how hot and humid it is tonight, I could see people breaking the rules just to get squirted with the cold water. I’m actually considering it myself.
“The winner is whichever crab reaches the finish line first, and the person who picked that number will receive the grand prize of an island hop! Yes, that’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The winner will get to spend one full day on our neighboring uninhabited island, alone. You will be taken by boat and dropped off with a luxurious picnic to spend the day however you choose and then picked up later. Now, that is a prize, yes?”
Everyone cheers and claps.
I turn my head and speak into West’s ear, “I feel kind of bad about entering now.”
His brows pull together. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t realize what the prize was. I figured it’d just be a bottle of booze or something. I already have one of those island hops booked.”
It was booked and paid for ages ago. I thought it would be a romantic, honeymoonish thing to do. But I’m not on my honeymoon. I’m currently having a two-week fling with the hot guy pressed up against me.
“Are you gonna go on it?” West asks me.
I screw my face up. “Spend the day on an island, alone? Nah, thanks. I would legit shit myself. I’d have thoughts of being eaten by a shark or being forgotten about and left there alone forever. And I’d have to build a house and learn to fish and stuff to stay alive.”
West laughs. “Your imagination is … vast.”
“Why, thank you.” I smirk. “To be honest, I need to cancel the trip.” I know I won’t get my money back, but there’s no way I’m going and spending the day out there, alone. Not when I can be here and hang out with West.
Unless …
“I mean, I could not cancel it if you, um … want to come with me?” I ask him, lowering my voice.
We’ve been hanging out a lot these last few days. And I mean, a lot. Most of it spent having sex. So much sex that I honestly don’t know how I’m still walking. We have eaten dinners and breakfasts together. Okay, all of them. And lunches too. Also, snack times and drinks at the bar. But we’d be eating there separately anyway, so it just makes sense to eat together. We’ve also spent each night in bed together, but that’s purely for the sex.
But asking him to come on an island trip with me feels almost like I’m asking him on a date. And that’s not what this is between him and me. It’s sex. Nothing more.
West’s eyes stay unchanged on me, and my heart starts to beat faster in my chest as I think I’ve made a big error in asking him. That I’ve given him the wrong impression. And I need to rectify this immediately.
Before I can muster up any words to take it back, he says, “You and me, alone on an island. Definitely sounds like fun.”
A sigh of relief runs through me. Then, I catch the look in his eyes, and a shiver quickly follows that sigh of relief.