Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
"Thank you for apologizing," she says, her eyes dropping down the length of my body, and I swear I see desire in her eyes. "Have a good night."
With those parting words, she steps back into her house and closes the fucking door right in my face.
Good for her for not giving in.
Despite my aching cock, there's a wide smile on my face.
Chapter 13
Riley
I can't believe the restraint I just showed.
I press my back to the closed door, squeezing my legs together as I do.
My body aches for him.
You're the perfect size, Riley. Exactly my fucking type.
I could swim in those words forever.
I still don't think he remembers what happened in that closet. I think his reference to high school was just about him making stupid choices or ones that didn't exactly fit who he was. Or maybe it was more about not knowing what he liked until he found it, as is the case in a lot of situations.
I didn't know I liked muscle-bound blue-collar workers until he dropped his pants in the middle of his bedroom without an ounce of flare, like he gets naked for women all the time.
The thought of that makes my stomach turn.
I shake my head, quickly releasing all thoughts of what we shared at his house both times we were there.
I have to take him at face value and believe what he said.
I know this wasn't more than hooking up. Although we said it would only happen once, the situation presented itself a second time, and I was just as willing to participate then as I was the first time. It's not fair to blame him when I wanted it just as badly. If I hadn't wanted it, I wouldn't have worn my favorite dress after shaving all my bits and pieces and slathering my body with scented lotion.
I can't believe he's been living in a hotel room. I knew the fire ruined his kitchen, but I don't have any experience with that sort of thing. I didn't realize that smoke damage was such a problem with house fires. I just figured what the flames touched was the entire problem.
It makes me feel guilty about all the bad things I've said about him to myself when I'm alone. Maybe he hasn't been back to the house in the last couple of days, and that's why the food was still on his porch when I swung by this evening to drop off another meal.
Needing to know for sure, I pull the door back open, hoping to catch him before he drives off. I startle at seeing him still on the porch, standing exactly where he was moments ago when I closed the door.
"I am willing to beg," he whispers, and the sound of his voice climbs inside of me.
The man might as well be standing there with his hand wrapped around his cock for how those sultry words sound in my ears.
I drop my eyes to the front of his jeans, and there's no hiding just how turned on he is right now. I should question the sanity of a man who gets aroused when he's insulted by a woman, but my body has other things on its mind.
I reach out and grab the front of his jacket, tugging him forward until he's standing inside my little house.
The space feels too small for such a large man, but I don't have the ability to question any of it right now. Logical thinking isn't something I want to engage in at all because I might change my mind and ask him to leave.
History tells me that I should, that this will turn sour before the sweat dries on our skin. I know I need to just count the great sex we've had as a brief escape from reality, but my body urges me to act differently.
"Beg," I whisper, looking up at him and locking my eyes on his.
"Hmm?"
"You said you were willing to beg," I say with a shrug. "So do it."
I feel his mouth on my skin when he scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip before it turns up into a sinister little smile. It makes me question my sanity when a thrill of anticipation runs up my spine.
"Can I do it without words?"
There's a playful cadence to his tone, a contradiction to the words he spoke at the bar.
I freeze, my mind taking me back to that moment and making me wonder if my issues made it worse than it actually was.
Or maybe I'm just feeding that self-esteem issue that isn't strong enough to stand up to him for being so insulting.
"I like you feisty," he says when I nod my head in agreement because I've clearly lost my fucking mind.
I grip a handful of his hair when he dips down, intent on brushing his lips against my cheek.