Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
It was a solid minute before I heard Whitney making her way down the hall as well. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been using that minute to try to calm the desire building in her system. Like it was in mine.
She stood there in the doorway, unsure.
And I was sure that what came out of my mouth next didn’t exactly help that situation.
“Take off your clothes,” I said as I turned on the tap to wash my hands. At the strange choked sound she made, my head swiveled over my shoulder. “I can’t just unbutton your top and pull up your skirt this time, can I?” I asked, watching as a way too fucking appealing flush spread across her cheeks.
Knowing I saw it, a bit of stubbornness must have built inside her, because she angled her chin up, then reached down to snag the hem of her shirt, drawing it up and over her head.
I had approximately two seconds where her head was covered in the material of the t-shirt to let my gaze move over her.
And fuck if the bra she chose to wear on her off days wasn’t the kind that had no goddamn padding or even much lining.
So her nipples pebbled up against the material, and it was impossible to stop my mind from imagining sucking them into my mouth, scraping them with my teeth, teasing them with my tongue.
But then the tee was on the floor and I had to look away, pretend to busy myself with looking at my supplies. When all I really needed was the sharp little scissor and the tweezers.
My peripheral vision, though, was good.
So I got to partially watch as her fingers undid her button and zipper, then as she shimmied the pants down her soft hips, exposing those thick thighs and the swatch of black material between.
I couldn’t stop it.
My mind flashed back to being at her feet in that bathroom, to pulling her panties to the side, and burying my face between her thighs, working her clit until her body was spasming into an orgasm as her hand crushed my skull, as her moans filled my ears.
“Okay. What now?” she asked, making me look over.
Not wanting to seem shy or overly modest, given that I’d already seen her in various stages of undress, she nervously fussed with her hair, tucking then un-tucking it from behind her ear.
“Come over here,” I said, realizing how thick my voice was only after it was out of my mouth.
Judging by the way her breasts rose sharply, like she’d sucked in her breath, she heard it alright. And liked it.
Fuck if that wasn’t the worst part.
It wasn’t like the desire was one-sided.
But there I was, having to be the good guy.
It wasn’t a mask I wore well.
And I was pretty fucking pissed that I needed to at all.
The boss man, though, was pretty clear.
Don’t fuck the witness.
Those were the very words he’d said to me the other day. It didn’t exactly leave much room for interpretation. And I was committed to my loyalty to my Family.
So, yeah, I couldn’t fuck Whitney.
No matter how much we both wanted it.
I went ahead and convinced myself that eating her out was just a… gray area.
It certainly wasn’t fucking.
So it didn’t exactly count.
“Hop your ass up on the counter,” I said, patting it. When she didn’t do it, I glanced over.
“You’re serious? Why can’t I just stand?”
“Because if you’re standing, I’d have to get on my knees in front of you,” I said. And added the silent again.
“Oh, right,” she said, shaking her head as if to knock loose the same memory that had popped into my head.
With that, she awkwardly scooted herself up, hissing a bit as the cold counter met her warm skin.
“So, ah, will this hurt?”
“Compared to what you’ve been through already? No,” I said. “It just pulls a little. More uncomfortable than painful,” I added.
“Okay,” she said, eyeing the little scissors as I came closer with them.
Now, did I need to press into her knees until her thighs parted on either side of my body to get a close look at her shoulder?
No, no I did not.
But did I do it anyway?
Sure as fuck did.
And did Whitney suck in a deep breath? Yeah, she did.
With an excuse to have my head ducked, I watched her chest as it rose and fell a few times before I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.
I was almost painfully aware of the heat of her, of the sweet scent of her as I started to snip the stitches.
Done, I swapped the scissors for the tweezers.
Feeling her tense, I reminded her. “Just a little pulling.”
“Kind of like when the dentist tells you ‘just a little pressure’ when they are tugging a tooth out of your jaw?” she shot back, dubious.