Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“This was really sweet of you.”
“I felt bad about your bad day.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Did Madison call anyone else to let them know what happened?”
I nod tersely. “My mom. Texted my siblings. Called my dad.”
His lips are pressed together and I don’t have to explain to him why my family didn’t bother showing up. He’s part of that world. He gets it—no one worth their salt in the Steam organization would have left that game to come to the station. Had I been in the hospital? Slightly better odds, but only slightly.
Pressing charges for what amounts to an attempted purse theft?
Hell nah.
Laughable!
But he came and that knowledge has my heart racing all over again. Has me waxing poetic all over again. Has me leaning forward and puckering my mouth for a kiss again.
He’s happy to lay one on me and we sit facing each other, kissing in the bath with wet, warm skin and slippery tongues.
One hand slides over his bent knee, down the inside of his thick thigh, down the length of his hardening shaft.
It’s hard—probably has been half the time we’ve been immersed here—so I grip it, using my thumb to tease the tip.
Buzz moans into my mouth, taking his other hand and clasping it over mine, using it to stroke himself.
His eyes slide closed. Kisses me deeper.
“Fuck, babe…” That feels so good.
He’s muttering now, more to himself than to me, giving me power, making me intoxicated with it. I make him feel good. Me.
God, I think I might love this idiot I’ve known two weeks.
The thought fills me with…
…all the feels, whatever that means.
And before I can think twice about it, I’m on my knees and climbing over his, and he’s making room for me in his lap and I’m sinking down onto his cock. In the tub.
Side note: anyone who tells you water is a lubricant is a big fucking liar, ’cause it ain’t.
It’s work sliding on. Takes some time. Painfully amazing, but a little painful all the same. Finally, I’m on.
We’re as one as we could possibly be, mouths fused, bodies aligned, naked flesh and pounding hearts.
I ride him slowly at first, so we don’t spill water over the edge, but there comes a point where neither of us can stand the slow pace. Can’t stand withholding the friction. Can’t stand drawing it out. So we move faster, Buzz’s large hands gripping my backside while his mouth sucks on my nipples, pulling and pushing me over him faster, faster, faster…
“Fuck,” he says when the first wave of water splashes to the floor. “The girls are going to kill me.”
Who. Cares.
I don’t; all I care about is how fantastic his hard dick feels inside me and how amazing my tits feel inside his mouth and how gorgeous he is and how beautiful he makes me feel.
His hands go to my shoulders and pull me down. Deeper he goes.
I moan, grinding. Mmm…yes.
Water splashes; my pussy pulses.
“God yeah, baby. Fuck you’re sexy, Hollis,” he croons in that deep voice I love so much.
Splash. Splash.
Splash.
The last wave goes over the edge when my orgasm hits and I’m lost. Gone. Crashing on his chest, falling, lips on his shoulder while we ride it out—
“HEY, ASSHAT, WHOSE CAR IS THAT IN THE DRIVEWAY?”
22
Trace
Nothing kills a climax like an older brother dropping by unexpectedly—almost as if he had it all planned out to ruin my life.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Fuck. My brother.” He better be alone; if he’s not, I’ll kill him.
Hollis has her wet tits squished against my chest, riding out the afterglow from her orgasm—an outcome we weren’t able to share with my brother bellowing from the other room.
She peels herself off me and glances toward the door. Covers her breasts with her hands, lest the jerk poke his head through. “God, what the hell is with you two? Do you ever act normal?”
Normal? “What is this word you speak of?”
“Guess not.” She pulls away and tries to stand, her pussy in my line of vision, making my mouth water and my dick harden all over again. I want it and I want it bad, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.
Tripp Wallace is in my house and he isn’t going to leave until he loiters his fair share. Steals my food. Watches a movie or two. Basically the same shit I pull on Noah Harding, but way more annoying. I’ve spent the last 27 years having this dickhead’s nose up my asshole. He can cut the umbilical cord any day now.
Hollis takes one of the towels on the ledge and begins drying off, one moist limb at a time, a satisfied smile on her face. She glances back at me, over her shoulder. “Can you tell him you’ll be right out? I don’t want him walking in here.”