Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Dalton glances back at me, his brow arching as he pauses, the ball locked between his strong hands. “Ooh, that’s a dangerous line of questioning,” he says, his eyes lighting up, clearly intrigued by the sudden turn our night has taken. “Are you sure you want to introduce yourself to the demons living in my mind so soon?”
“Wow, I’m shocked. You can stand right across from a woman and tell her how you’re going to make her scream, yet you hesitate with this. Interesting.”
He bounces the ball, the sound flowing with the breeze. “Hey now, I was just trying to save myself from coming across as a douchebag, but if you really want to know, I’m down to share.”
“Hit me with it,” I tell him. “What naughty little thoughts go through your head that you can’t say out loud?”
Dalton smirks and throws the ball from the center of the court, effortlessly dropping it through the hoop. He turns and walks backward toward the hoop, keeping those blazing blue eyes locked on me, not looking the least bit apologetic for what he’s about to say. “Depressed girls give the best head because they don’t care about breathing anymore.”
My jaw drops, and I suck in a gasp. “You did not just say that,” I laugh, not sure whether to be appalled, shocked, or simply amused.
“You asked for it,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. Hit me with it, Firefly. What nasty little thoughts circle your head that’s not socially acceptable to say out loud?”
Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I really consider his question, not having thought this through one bit. I was more than ready to ask the same of him, but actually answering it? Well, shit. That’s a lot of pressure for one girl.
There’s a million nasty little thoughts that fly through my head on a daily basis, but nothing I should be admitting to this guy. “Ummm, okay,” I say, grinning so wide I feel the apples of my cheeks squishing up toward my eyes. “Sometimes I find myself wondering what a guy would look like trying to pee if his dick had been cut off. Like . . . is it just gonna spurt everywhere, full on fountain style, or is it going to dribble out all day like a leaking tap? Who knows?”
Dalton stares back at me, horror in his bright blue eyes. “Oh, baby, you’re nasty,” he tells me while shaking his head. “But this shit ain’t real. Tell me something that’s buried a little deeper. Don’t feed me this surface bullshit.”
“Okay,” I say, rising to the challenge and taking a few steps toward him. “Getting off with my vibrator is a shitload better than sex with a man.”
His whole face drops and there’s almost heartbreak in his eyes. “Goddamn, Firefly. All that proves is you really have been fucking around with immature little boys up until now. But don’t worry, I got you,” he says, stepping right into me and pulling me into his arms, holding me as though my confession truly is the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone. “I’m gonna make this right, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove away from him, realizing all too late that he’s just fucking with me. “You’re an asshole,” I tell him. “But until you’ve had the McCumster 3000 sucking the life out of your clit at a million miles per hour while ramming yourself with a big, thick silicone cock, then you really don’t get a say in the matter. There’s nothing quite like it.”
Dalton steps straight back into me, his eyes blazing with hunger. “You realize now that you’ve put the visual in my mind, I won’t stop until I’ve got you spread out before me, showing me exactly how you fuck yourself?” he murmurs, his voice getting deeper by the second. “My eyes locked on your cunt while you slowly push that cock deep inside you. Your tight little pussy stretching around it as the tension in the room gets too high and you can barely breathe. Go ahead. Tell me that fucking yourself alone would be better than anything I could do to you.”
I swallow hard. Fuck the tension in that room. The tension on this rooftop is where it’s at. “How would I know?” I mutter, keeping my voice low so that he doesn’t realize just how dry my mouth has become. “So far all I’m seeing from you is a lot of talk and not a lot of action.”
His eyes become hooded, filled with intense desire, and I just know I won’t be walking away from tonight without feeling him between my legs. He scoffs, his soft rush of breath brushing across my collar. “Oh, you’ll fucking know, baby,” he mutters, taking a purposeful step back, putting space between us and allowing me a second to catch my breath. “You can count on that.”