Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
She touches the towel still wrapped around her head.
The smile on her face is sleepy. Satisfied. Content.
“I don’t want anything,” she says, yawning.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
She nods, her eyelids getting heavy.
I walk down the stairs to the bottom level, and my feet smack against the tile as I make my way into the kitchen.
A grin slips across my cheeks as I pass the spot where I sat earlier. I stop and look at the place where she stood with my cock in her mouth.
Ashley Thompson had my cock in her mouth.
I’ll remember that visual for the rest of my life. I chuckle in awe. And her taste. I could’ve eaten her pussy all night.
Her body was made to be worshipped and I’m the lucky bastard that gets the honor. Strangely enough, I’m not sure that anyone’s ever showered her with the attention she deserves.
But I will. She’s the most unbelievable woman I’ve ever met, and I’ll make her feel like the woman that she is every time she’ll let me.
I grab my cock and rearrange it. It’s half hard again.
I look around the room and try to remember why I’m in here. Snacks. I’m here for drinks and snacks.
I busy myself making two drinks, just in case, then checking out the snacks. There are weird crackers, unsalted popcorn, and trail mix.
What the hell kind of snacks are these?
I check the fridge and find some uncured pepperoni. Guess this will have to do. I set it and the crackers by the drinks and then set out to find my phone. Eventually, I find it on the dining room table. How’d it get there?
It’s surprisingly not too late, so I pull up my email and take a quick peek. My out-of-office response directed everyone to Tati who was more than thrilled to support these few days away. Like the gem she is, she emailed me a list of all the things she handled today.
It puts my mind further at rest.
Before I head upstairs, I do a quick check of my texts … and start laughing.
Moss: You had a package delivered to my house today.
Moss: Correction—it was your address but Banks’s name. I’d be concerned if I were you.
Moss: New correction—I’m concerned. I had Banks come and get it and he was pale. You know what that means. He’s up to something. Fuck. Why do I feel like I have to be on guard now? And why didn’t I look in it before I handed it over?
Banks: Well, the mailman delivered my stickers to Moss. I got them and I don’t think he’s suspicious, but be ready. He’s not as dumb as he looks.
Paige: Please go home. Your brothers are driving me crazy.
Paige: Also, I hope you’re having lots of fun. Love you.
Dad: I had Jess go by your office today and get the file for Padawon. I think I want to pull the trigger on that one. Let’s talk when you get home. Be safe, buddy.
Mom: I went to your house. You left out that entire pot of soup that I dropped off last weekend. I dumped it and took my kettle home but you’re going to get palmetto bugs if you don’t watch it.
Unknown: Flamingo poop is not pink.
“What the hell?” I laugh and head back into the kitchen. “What is going on right now?”
I turn my phone off and set it on the counter. I have an exceptionally gorgeous woman in my bed. Everyone, and everything, else in my life can wait.
Then I gather the drinks and snacks and return upstairs. Ashley is barely awake when I place the snacks on the bedside table and then head to the balcony door. There’s nothing like hearing the soft waves at night.
“Did you bring me a drink?” she asks, sleepily.
“No.”
“Ugh.”
As I open the door, the sound of the ocean drifts across the room.
“You told me you didn’t want one,” I say, sitting up in the bed.
“But you should always bring a girl a drink and a snack. Were you raised in a barn?”
I chuckle, thankful we left the bathroom light on so I can see. “I brought you a drink.”
“You did?” She struggles to sit up. “You just keep getting better and better.”
I hand her the glass that I made for her. “If a drink tops earlier, I need to try harder.”
“Please don’t try harder.” She takes a drink and then puts her glass on the bedside table. “My head hurts.”
My hand falls to my lap and I stare at her.
If she let me hurt her, I’ll never do it again. I’ll never trust her to tell me the truth.
“Not that bad.” She adjusts her pillow so she’s sitting more comfortably. “It’s like wearing fancy heels. Sometimes a little pain is worth it. And believe me—that was worth it.” She situates herself against the headboard. “Now, where’s my snack?”