Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Her cheeks turned crimson, happiness dancing in her eyes. “What? Seriously?”
“Fuck. Yeah, seriously.” Then he reached around behind her undoing her zip.
She watched him hungrily and with a hint of trepidation.
“You okay, girl?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m just . . . I’m not perfect like you.”
Okay, that stopped him in his tracks. In what fucking universe would he be considered perfect?
“Sorry, forget I said that. Stupid Maeve, always ruining the moment with your honesty,” she muttered.
He cupped the back of her neck lightly. “I like your honesty, tell me.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Maeve,” he said warningly. She needed to learn that patience wasn’t his strong suit. And he didn’t like to be denied when he wanted something.
He expected her to spill, but she shook her head again.
Oh, someone was asking for a spanking.
“Tell me.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
He just stared at her.
“Because you look like you do. You were probably like the most popular guy in school, right? Of course you were, look at you. How often do you work out? God, I get breathless getting off the couch to make a cup of tea . . . and you can take on three assholes at once and not even break into a sweat. This is so stupid . . . I’m so not in your league . . .”
Oh, she was definitely asking for a spanking.
Chill.
Remember, she isn’t a sub. You cannot just start smacking her ass.
Damn, it was hard to hold back, though.
“Maeve, look at me.”
He waited until her sad brown eyes stared at him. He would do anything to wipe the misery off her face. But he knew he couldn’t go easy on her. She needed to hear him. How did he convince her, though? It wasn’t like he was that good at reassuring people.
“Did you just suck my dick?”
“Ahh . . .” She stared at him in shock, clearly lost for words.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Yes. I think so,” she said quietly.
“You think so?”
She straightened her shoulders. “I mean, yeah, obviously I did.”
“And it was hard, right?”
Her cheeks pinkened. Fuck, she was adorable. Far too cute and sweet for him.
But this was just sex.
“Well, yeah. But wouldn’t most men get hard at the idea of a blow job?”
“Wouldn’t know. Don’t talk about how hard my dick gets from a blow job with other men. Never really comes up.”
“Huh. Interesting. So you’ve never sat around with your friends and talked about getting your dick sucked?”
Why the hell did she sound so curious about that?
“No, I haven’t. And I thought we established that I don’t have friends.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot. But if you did have friends, would you—”
“No,” he said shortly. How had he lost control of this conversation? “I wouldn’t. That shit is private. I don’t fuck and talk.”
Her face softened. “I like that.”
He shook his head. He had no idea why that made her look so sweet and soft.
“Before you even got your mouth near me, I was hard, wasn’t I? Couldn’t you feel me pressed against you when we were dancing?”
She nodded, chewing her lip. “Yes. But—”
“No fucking buts.”
“You swear a lot.”
“I like swearing. That a problem?”
She seemed to think about that. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You’re lucky I find you cute, girl.”
She grinned widely. “You do?”
“Fuck, yes, I do. You’re cute and you’re sexy. And I don’t know where you’re getting this stupid idea that I’m perfect from, but that’s far from true.”
“Well, I was just talking about your looks and body, not personality.” Her face was serious until she grinned and started cracking up, giggling so much that tears came down her face.
“You’re a little brat.” He tickled at her sides and she kept laughing.
Finally, he eased off as she begged for mercy. She leaned against him. He massaged the back of her neck gently.
“I’m not perfect, girl, and neither are you. But it doesn’t fucking matter. Because if everyone was perfect, wouldn’t life be pretty damn boring?”
“I guess,” she said with a sigh. “Although it would be nice to have a flat tummy.”
He drew her back, then ran a finger down her cheek. “Got a confession to make.”
Fuck. Was he really going to tell her this? Seemed he was.
“What is it?”
“I saw you last weekend.”
She frowned. “Saw me? What do you mean? Of course you did. You helped me fight off Fishy-breath, Frog-face, and Garbage-feet.”
“Hmm, but before that, I caught sight of you here in the club. I was up here and I could see you dancing. And I couldn’t draw my eyes away from you.’
“Really?” she asked breathlessly.
“Really,” he replied.
“Wait. Is it because I dance like a constipated duck?”
“What?” he asked. “Why would you think you dance like that?”
“Uh, I was once told that.”
“By who?” he demanded. He’d kill the fucker.
“Some mean girl at school a long time ago. Doesn’t matter.”
“You look beautiful when you dance.” Yeah, she wasn’t the most coordinated. But he loved the fact that she just went for it.