Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
I’ve never wanted to scream, cry, or shout more than I do right now. I’ve never wanted to let the world know that I’m about to experience a crazily painful yet erotic orgasm in fucking public.
My eyes flutter shut, but I force them open. I’m breathing hard and fast through my nose, the frantic rise and fall of my chest thankfully obscured by my arms. I want to come.
I need to come. I need to end this, because I can’t take it anymore.
“Please,” I hiss through a clamped jaw. “Ty, please.”
With my words, he turns off the bullet. He obviously drops it somewhere because he wraps his fingers around my thighs and stretches his tongue along me. That one touch, the physical connection, is all it takes to shatter the tension inside.
Somehow, I don’t make a noise. My eyes are watery, my throat raw, my whole body shaking, but I don’t make a noise. I ride his tongue, letting the orgasm overcome me, consume me.
“Three,” Tyler whispers, moving from beneath me. “And I have ninety seconds to spare. How about that?”
I smile and wipe quickly with a napkin. I drop back on the seat, the dirty napkin in my palm, and close my eyes. “That was mean,” I whisper, incapable of anything else.
He leans over me, his hand sliding up my cheek and into my hair. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes open.
“No. It was what you wanted. If you didn’t, you would have said no.” He lowers his lips to mine. “I respect ‘no,’ Liv. I don’t respect ‘oh my god.’ In fact, I take the latter as one hell of a fucking compliment.”
“It is most definitely a compliment.” I smile wearily. “But where the hell did the bullet come from?”
He grabs it from the floor with a smirk and tucks it into his pants pocket. “Black trousers hide a multitude of sins, luckily for us.”
“Black is slimming.” I sit up straight and tuck the napkin into a pocket of my purse. “What?” I ask at Tyler’s amused look. “You think I want some waiter touching a napkin covered in my come?”
“I’m not amused because you’re putting it in there. I’m amused because you’re learning.” He grins against my lips. “If your knickers are uncomfortable, there’s a home in my pocket.”
“Speaking of that, what happened to my other pair?”
He takes my hands and pulls me to standing. His arms circle my waist, holding me against him, and his mouth settles by my ear. “They’re in my drawer, washed. So the next time you come over and I feel obliged to tie you up somewhere, you have a clean pair for after.”
I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Is that a promise to tie me up again?”
His eyes flash with desire. “It’s a certainty, baby girl.”
My best friend is beautiful. That is a fact that should be stated before all else, if only because she’s the kind of woman who looks great in sweatpants and a tank top with soup spilled down it.
But right now, she looks incredible.
The white-lace gown hugs her figure to perfection—if you ignore the pins at her waist. The train is modest, nothing flashy, and the simple sweetheart neckline shows just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it’s trashy.
“What do you think?” She runs her hands across her stomach and down.
I swallow hard. “I think it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Tears fill my eyes.
“Oh my god. Don’t you dare fucking cry!” She gasps. “I don’t want to cry. I hate crying. Dammit, Liv! You’re making me cry!” She covers her face with her hands.
“I can’t help it.” I stand and hug her tightly. “You look incredible. We’re gonna have to get a defibrillator on standby for every man at the wedding.”
She snort-laughs. “Only a defibrillator, eh?”
“For Aaron, I’m pre-booking an ambulance.” I pull back with a teary smile. “It’s better than I imagined. Seriously. Wow.”
It is. I’ve never seen a dress more perfect—and the white against her lightly tan skin and dark, curly hair is startlingly bright.
“Okay. I’m getting changed now that it’s fitted because I don’t want to cry anymore.” She sniffs and wipes under her eyes as she trots to the dressing room.
How is it?
Tyler texts.
I’m crying,
I reply with my own sniff.
That bad, huh?
Shut up.
I have a surprise for you.
Oh, no. I still remember last night’s “surprise.”
Don’t you forget it, bitch. I can recreate in any number of places. In fact, I have a list on my phone.
For real?
No. But it’ll only take me a minute. I can even text it to you if you like.
I smirk and shrug to myself.
You have me intrigued.
Give me two minutes.
What about the surprise?
Ask your best friend.
Ask my best friend? Why do I feel like everyone conspires against me? Oh, that’s because they do. Fucking hell.