Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
To that, Callow shot me a small smile as he walked toward the side of the bed closest to the door since the other side was obviously where I sat, evident by my lotion, a charging station, and a collection of hair ties and clips.
He placed the toiletry bag down, then pulled out something unexpected.
His gun.
“Does this bother you?” he asked, placing it on the nightstand.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I was actually looking into getting one eventually. I just wanted to bring it up to Daphne first. And I didn’t want to do it too soon after the attack.”
“If you decide to go that route, I can show you how to shoot.”
“I will need that,” I said. “I have terrible aim. Never gotten a piece of paper in the trash on the first try. Is this strictly necessary?” I asked, grabbing a handful of his tee and giving it a little tug.
“Nope,” he said, making short work of pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. “This looks nice,” he said, his fingers pinching the edge of my tank top. “Cold?” he asked with a little smile as his hand moved up my belly then teased over my breast where my nipple was straining against the material.
“I think you can keep me warm,” I said, climbing up on the bed.
Callow reached to turn off the light before sitting down.
He sat off the side for a moment, removing his prosthetic and then the liner before moving under the covers. Hooking an arm under me, he rolled me up onto him.
It was almost embarrassing how all the stress just seeped out of me at the feel of him against me.
“I got a question,” he said.
“Shoot,” I said, my fingers tracing an odd half-circle raised scar on his shoulder.
“The tattoo on your ass…”
“I let someone with a tattoo machine they bought God-knew-where do a tattoo on me right before I got pregnant with Daphne. It was awful. But since no one was seeing it but me, I dealt with it for years. Then I finally went to get it covered up. But, ah, to hide the fact that the original tattoo was on my ass—in case my kid ever had questions when bathing suits were involved or something like that—I had the artist drag it down my thigh.”
“I like it,” he said as his hand slid down my side, over my hip, then teased over the spot where the tattoo was located.
“I like yours too,” I said, running my hand over his arm. “Any stories to them?”
“Not really. They’re kind of a map of my travels, though. I tried to get some sort of piece done each country I’d visited. Didn’t exactly do a fuckuva lot of research before I got ‘em. That’s why some are, ha, better than others.”
“I like them all. They have character,” I said as my fingers moved over a bit of a lopsided sailboat.
“Do you plan on getting more?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t really thought about it. With my job, they’d have to be hidden, but it might be fun to have more. Do you know a good artist?”
“Know a couple,” he said as his fingers teased up under my shorts, grazing my ass cheek. “But prefer if neither of ‘em get to look at this ass,” he said, giving my butt a squeeze.
“Totally fine saving it for just you,” I said, then let out a little moan when his fingers traced the lace around my thigh until he was between, grazing over the gusset of my panties.
“That’s all it takes, hm?” he asked, fingers pressing in a bit. “Just being close gets you this wet?”
“Close to you,” I clarified as my hips rocked a bit against his touch.
“Like that more than I probably should,” he said as his fingers slipped into my panties and touched me without any barrier.
“Think you like it just the right amount,” I said as my hand slid down his front to rub my palm against his hardness.
The little rumble that escaped him had shivers coursing through me.
Callow’s fingers pressed inside of me as my hand went into his pajama pants to close around his length.
We worked each other just like that for a few long, lazy moments. Until we couldn’t fight the growing need any longer.
Then he was rolling me onto my back and coming over me, pulling down the front of my tank top to expose my breasts so he could suck one into his mouth.
What started as a slow exploration became hands grabbing at material, dragging it down and off until we were both bare, until we were grabbing at skin instead of fabric.
Callow grabbed for his bag on the nightstand, digging out a condom and slipping it on as my lips pressed into his neck, my tongue teasing his pulse point.