Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Fuck. I’m in trouble.
I halt my movements and watch as my wife rides me, unable to glance down between us, loving the way she takes all of me. I’m desperate for a release, but I know it won’t come until Sophie decides she’s good and ready, so I guess now it’s my turn to hold on for the ride.
My hands roam over her perfect body, and I soon find my fingers dipping down to circle her clit. “Fuck,” she screams. Knowing I can’t possibly last much longer, I press down a little harder on her clit, which is just what she needs to go flying right over the edge.
Her body explodes around me as she clenches down on my cock, allowing me to finally find that sweet release. I come hard as she continues riding out her orgasm, but I find myself paralyzed with pleasure as I pour myself into her, shooting hot spurts of cum deep into her pussy.
“Holy shit,” she pants, as her head drops to my shoulder.
“You can say that again,” I murmur, my hand curling around her back.
With a grin, she looks up at me, and I see those beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think dinner might have burned,” she says, noticing the smell that’s been filling the house for the last ten minutes.
“I know,” I tell her, smirking up at her and taking in those dazzling blue eyes. “Don’t stress. I watched you cooking it. It was going to be shit anyway. I ordered Chinese.”
“What?” she shrieks, purposefully clenching around my cock and making me groan, her tight hold almost enough to drop a motherfucker.
“Yeah,” I say, leaning forward and unlocking my phone to check the time. “It should be here soon, actually.”
Soph lets out a huff as she climbs off my lap and heads into the bathroom to clean herself up. I get up and turn off the oven, retrieving our clothes from the kitchen floor in the process. I pull the oven door slightly ajar and peer in, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with the mess in the oven.
“I’m not eating your stupid Chinese,” Sophie tells me as she comes striding back into the kitchen, finding her clothes on the counter. “You should have more faith in my cooking skills.”
I pull open the oven door further so she can see the charred remains of her dinner perfectly, and a wicked grin crosses my face as her own falls flat. “Fuck,” she groans. “I just want to get it right, just once.”
“Babe,” I say, slamming the door back into place and stepping into her arms. “Just face it. You can’t cook. You’ve never been able to in the six years I’ve known you.”
She lets out a huff. “I’m not ready to accept it yet.”
“Well, you better hurry up. There’s only so much more I can take of it.”
“What do you mean? You eat my dinners all the time,” she questions.
“Only because I love you,” I tell her as the buzzer for the gate sounds. I press a gentle kiss to her forehead and excuse myself to make dinner like a real man. I press the buzzer and wait by the door for the delivery guy, and shortly after, I’m dishing up real food for a very grumpy, but starving, wife.
Chapter 18
SOPHIE
I wake up on Monday morning, more than ready for my new start. Today, I go back to work and get my shit together. The cast is gone, my ribs are healed, and my faith in myself is restored. I will no longer be the moping, grieving housewife. I’m a strong, independent woman, and while my heart still aches for my son, I need to keep moving forward.
After finishing in the shower, I pull on my blouse and skirt, the ones I know my husband can’t resist. Not that it matters right now. He was up and gone for hockey training hours ago.
Heading into the kitchen, I make myself a piece of toast and a cup of coffee before turning and striding back down the long hallway. I sip at my coffee when I pass that one door that has remained closed for the past few months.
I become rooted to the ground, unable to continue as I turn to face the door, my heart racing. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand falls to the handle. I must be insane right now, or maybe I just enjoy a bit of torture on a Monday morning. But either way, something deep inside is screaming at me that the time has come.
Turning the handle, I find myself stepping over the threshold into what should have been Tyler’s nursery. A heaviness settles within my heart, but it’s soon replaced with a strange fondness as I take in the empty room.
Tank must have come in here and cleared everything out for this exact reason. He knew I would come in here seeking some kind of comfort, but he would also know that it would remind me of everything I’ve lost. Had I done this any earlier, it would have killed me.