Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Fuck. Fuck yes,” I groaned.
Everything went white as my climax hit me like a tidal wave. I grunted into the darkened interior of the cellar and emptied into her mouth. My cum hit the back of her throat, and—bless this woman—she didn’t even choke, just swallowed.
I removed my cock from her mouth when she was done. She sat back heavily on her heels and tilted her head up at with a glazed look in her eyes.
I bent down to press a kiss to her lips. “That was perfect.”
“I…” she said shakily. “I…that…”
I grinned. “Yeah. Best present I’ve ever received.”
She laughed and then wiped at the edges of her mouth before slowly coming to her feet again. “I’m a good gift giver.”
“And here I thought, I was going to have to work to get that dress off.”
“It’s still on,” she teased.
I grasped her waist and tugged her against me, swinging us around so her back was against the barrel. “Fine. I’ll just take that wet cunt instead.”
“Oh!”
Then, I hiked her up by her thighs and set her ass down on the barrel behind her. I pushed her panties aside and was inside of her again with one quick thrust.
“Fuck,” she cried out.
She was so fucking wet and tight. I’d thought she’d been ready the first time. Somehow, she was even wetter. She was practically dripping down her thighs with it.
“Did me fucking your mouth get you this hot, baby?”
“Ye-yes.”
I grinned. Maybe she wasn’t going to be so afraid of what else I could give her if that got her this wet. Maybe she’d want more. Maybe she’d want everything, too.
“And are you going to come for me?”
She nodded, her pussy tightening around my cock as I bottomed out deep inside of her. She tilted her head back and came hard and fast. I watched her uninhibited expression as she let go. It was pure ecstasy. I wanted nothing more than to find a way to do it over and over again.
I was hit with the same feeling that I’d had all those months earlier. If I got close to this girl, there was no way that I could survive her. I wanted more than just sex with her. I wanted a relationship. I wanted a future.
I just needed to figure out how to convince her of that.
Part III
Be Here Now
15
Eve
Days later and I still couldn’t stop thinking about Whitt and me in the cellar. Something had clicked together down there. I didn’t know if it was the darkness or the location or just us, but it was beyond mind-blowing. We’d been texting nonstop since then. The messages progressively filthier and more intimate.
The way he’d taken control of my mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, I was a goner. How long had I been looking for someone who knew how to handle me? And somehow, Mr. Responsibility was the one who’d unleashed in that cellar. It was almost unbelievable.
Another text came in from him.
Or you could come over to my place after you finish your showing.
I glanced up at the couple wandering the half-a-million-dollar ranch house in Lakeridge Country Club. They’d been disinterested in the dozen other houses I’d shown them. It was the wrong time to buy, but they’d just moved here from Colorado, and they had a teenage daughter, so they needed to be in the house before school started. Maybe they’d like this one. I certainly did.
I texted Whitt back.
Maybe.
Despite our flirtation, neither of us had been at each other’s place. We hadn’t gone on a date. In fact, I’d purposely made it so we weren’t doing anything that resembled dating. If we were in the same place, that was one thing, but if I went out of my way to see him, that was completely different. That meant more. Right?
Tease.
God, I was.
A tease who was avoiding relationships like the plague. I didn’t want to complicate this thing that had been working so well. Or take a chance to see if it would work. Ugh.
I went to put my phone away when it started ringing. I panicked, thinking it was Whitt. We only texted. Phone calls were more intimate. Phone calls became phone sex, which became us ending up at his house, having real sex.
But it wasn’t Whitt. It wasn’t a client either. It was my sister.
My heart dropped.
“What now?” I muttered under my breath.
I answered the phone. “Hey, Bails.”
“Evie, hope I’m not bothering you.”
I glanced at my clients, still discussing the merits of an open floor plan. I waved the phone at them. The wife shot me a thumbs-up.
“I’m showing a house. What’s up?”
“I just have news. I got a job.”
My brain paused at those words. “You…got a job?”
“Yeah. It’s part-time, nights and weekends.”
“But school is starting in a few weeks.”
“I know, but I’ll be able to do this and school.”