Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I opened the door for her.
“Wow, I didn’t know you had manners.”
I looked down at her, realizing how short she was even in heels. I towered over her so easily, getting a perfect view of her bustiness. “It’s rare, but it happens.”
We returned to the house and walked into the entryway.
She had the picture frame tucked under her arm, her long hair cascading around her shoulders. She smelled so good, like a field of flowers. When she performed at the opera, she didn’t work up a sweat, even though her vocal cords were commanded to do the extraordinary. She even went to a bar afterward, not wiped out by the exertion it must have taken.
She gripped the rail and climbed up the staircase, her feet still in the five-inch heels.
I walked beside her, more aware of her attractiveness than ever before. Kent didn’t need to point it out to me because I always knew she was beautiful. I just never entertained the idea because there was so much resentment in the way.
We reached the second floor, and she extended the picture frame to me. “If you don’t want to put up the picture, it’s no big deal—”
“No, it should go up. I just have to decide where.” I glanced at it and held it at my side. If she’d gotten me something else, like a shirt or a watch, I probably would have been a dick to her. The night would have gone quite differently. But when I realized how sentimental the gift I was, I didn’t have an angry bone in my body.
She gave a slight smile. “I was afraid you would get mad… It seems like you’re always mad.”
In her defense, she was right. I was usually brooding over something. Sometimes I was stressed about work, sometimes I was thinking about how much I hated my father, and sometimes I remembered all the terrible things that had happened to my mother. It was enough to make anyone angry all the time. “I am always angry.”
“Well…I hope you had a good birthday.” She turned her body slightly, like she was about to walk ahead and go into her bedroom.
“I did. But there’s something else I want for my birthday.” Before I knew what I was saying, the words were out of my mouth and in the air. Maybe I’d drunk too much scotch, or maybe I thought I had a real chance because of the thoughtful gift she’d just given me. Or maybe she just looked so damn hot, I wanted to lift up her dress and fuck her right up against the wall.
She stiffened in place, like she knew exactly what I meant. Her eyes focused on my face, and her breathing changed. Her tits firmed against her dress, her nipples piercing through the thin material. She could have turned away and brushed off the comment, but she continued to linger.
I stepped closer to her, my lips aching for those full and delicious lips of hers. My imagination skipped ahead and pictured our naked bodies on my bed, her hard nipples being sucked raw by my anxious mouth. I opened her legs and tasted her there too, seeing if she was sweet or sour. Then I finally got my dick inside her—and fucked my wife.
She didn’t step back, but her lips parted slightly.
My hand slid into her hair, and I cradled her face so I could take her mouth. I moved closer and felt my dick nearly break through my zipper. With my arms locked behind her knees, I pictured myself sinking deep inside her tight little pussy. I imagined being buried to the hilt, taking this gorgeous woman who every man dreamed of fucking.
My fingers tightened in her hair, and I rested my mouth closer to hers, feeling the anticipation heighten just before the kiss. I’d kissed her before, but it was an obligation, a performance. This was the first time I truly wanted her, not just because she was offering herself. I desired her like a man desired his fantasy.
My arm wrapped around her waist, and I brought into me as I kissed her.
Fuck.
I felt her soft lips as a shiver ran down my spine. Smooth and slightly wet, they tasted like scotch and lipstick. I pulled her breath out of her lungs and into mine as I kissed her, claimed her mouth as my property. My fingers tightened a little more as I tilted my head and deepened the kiss.
Her lips moved with mine, shy at first, but then aggressive and sexy. She took a breath as she felt me, her hands moving to my stomach so she could feel my abs through my shirt. She pressed hard into me as I flexed for her, letting her feel what a real man felt like. A tiny moan escaped her lips, so small it could barely be heard.