Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’m so sorry about this,” he says and rips my panties off me, and his mouth takes my pussy again until I come on his tongue for the second time in one night. He comes over me, his mouth covering mine, then he falls next to me on the bed, and I lie there like a limp noodle.
“I struck the mother lode,” I say to the ceiling while he lies there looking at the ceiling with his hand on his chest.
“No,” he says. “I struck the mother lode.” I turn to look at him. “I also owe you a pair of panties.”
“Are you crazy?” I tell him, getting up and picking up the shredded pink panties. “I’m having these framed.” He gets on his elbow, his cock at half-mast and his abs on point and perfect. I walk to the bed and put my knee on the mattress, and his cock suddenly goes from half-mast to full-on raging. “Are you ready to go again?”
He looks down at his cock. “I think that would be a yes.” He gets up. “But this time, let’s do it in the shower.” It’s something he doesn’t have to ask me twice.
By the time we finish in the shower, my fingers are wrinkled, and I’m almost an icicle. I wrapped myself in his huge terry cloth robe, and I’m heading out of the room when I hear him behind me. “Where the fuck are you going?” I turn to see him as he glares at me, a white towel wrapped around his hips, the outline of his cock that I just sucked. AGAIN. My eyes fixate on the sight again, and I’m eager to try different things. “Zara?”
“Yeah?” I say, blinking my eyes.
“I said where do you think your going?” he asks me again. This time, he’s right in front of me.
“I was going to get my pjs,” I tell him, my fingers coming up to trail up his abs. It’s the same trail I did with my tongue not too long ago.
“No,” he says, untying the sash of the robe. “You sleep naked.”
I laugh. “But what if there is a fire?’ I ask him as he peels the robe from shoulders.
“We will leave the robe by the bed.” He takes the robe and tosses it to the end of the bed. Moving back up to the bed, he lifts the cover and then kisses my neck. “Get in, beautiful.”
I slip into his bed, and it’s like sinking into a cloud. I watch him walk around the bed, slip off his towel, and get into bed with me. He scoots to the middle of the bed and pulls me to him. “Good night, sweet Zara,” he says, and I settle in his arms and fall fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Evan
I hold her hand on my lap, her fingers entwined in mine. Picking it up, I bring it to my mouth and kiss it, looking over at her and seeing her smile at me. I’m driving her to the airport, and I fucking hate it. I wanted her to stay longer, but she couldn’t. The past four days have been the happiest I think I’ve ever had. We woke up Sunday reaching for each other. Fuck, I want her all the time, and we haven’t even had sex yet. I don’t want her to think I asked her here for that.
We got up, fed the dogs, and sat lounging on the couch. She was in heaven when they delivered it that afternoon. A round couch that you could lie on, and it comes with a half sun umbrella. I found her sitting on it with the dogs right next to her on Monday when I came home from the rink.
We made dinner side by side, watched television together, fell asleep together, and now it’s all coming to an end. “What time do you land?”
“At three thirty. Zoe is coming to get me,” she says, and I swear I want to turn the car around. “What time do you have to be at the rink?”
“As soon as I drop you off,” I tell her and take the exit to the airport. “Our game is tonight, and thank fuck we are home the whole week.”
“I have a crazy week.” I look over at her and take another mental picture of her. I’ve taken a million mental pictures of her. She is wearing regular light blue torn jeans with a white shirt that I know is going to be covered with her black leather jacket. Her feet in her Converse making her sporty and classy. “I have to make portfolios for five clients.”
“Are you working from home, or do you need to go into work?” I ask her.
“No, I’m working from home the whole week,” she says. “I do have to go in on Saturday to fit the girls for their gowns for the retirement gala that they are throwing.” I turn into the parking garage, and she huffs next to me. “You don’t have to walk me in.”