Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
My stomach muscles tighten, my pussy latches on, and I scream out his name as I contract and pulse on him.
“Look at me. I want to see you.” His hand goes to the back of my neck and we both stay still as I continue to pulse on his cock.
His eyes are like black obsidian and his lips are full and tantalizing. Tilting his head down, he bites the bottom of my lip. I grab ahold of his shirt as he pumps into me. Back and forth our bodies slap together.
“Jesus.” He does one deep thrust and freezes. I look up to watch him.
His beautiful face looks almost in pain. As my hand wraps around the back of his neck, his lips are at my forehead while his cock jerks and pulses.
He doesn’t pull out or move. Just stays inside me.
“I shouldn’t be so rough with you.” My head is in his neck, and his voice is almost a caress in my ear.
“I love it,” I whisper, prompting him to pull out.
As my legs drop to the dirt, I stare at him. “What’s wrong?”
He pulls up his jeans and tosses me my leggings. I catch them.
“Get dressed.”
I’m barely able to stand, and he looks like he wants to drop me off at the nearest bus station. I slide off his seat, and by slide, I mean slide like a snail, leaving a slimy wet trail. My legs shake, my vagina throbs, and as I bend down to put my leggings back on, his seed drips down my thigh.
“Do you have a Kleenex?” I snip, straightening so he can see the massive amount of milky white cum drip out of me.
“Christ.” He scrubs his hands up and down his face, then drops them as his eyes rake over my body.
This is exactly why I never get close to people, why I’m turning twenty in less than a month and I’m only having sex now. Something always goes wrong.
Bad luck.
All I want to do is get away from him and these emotions. “Never mind.” My hands shake as I try to slip my legs into my dance pants.
“Just stop.” He sighs and takes out his knife to cut the bottom of his T-shirt off. Squatting down, he cleans me.
It’s so uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything; it’s not needed. This is almost pathetic in how cliché it is. He fucked me and now he’s done. He warned me he wasn’t good, but he’s the absolute worst.
“Thank you.” I slap his hands away. His giant cock has dumped so much sperm inside me that more trickles out. We’ll be here all day.
My legs are working again as I pull on my dance pants. Grabbing one tennis shoe, I spin around to find the other one that I guess I kicked a few feet away.
He lights up a cigarette and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Asshole.
“Let’s go.” He bites down on the tip of the cigarette as he starts up his bike.
“No thanks. I need to walk. You go ahead. I know you’re a busy man.” I hate that the bitterness is so obvious in my voice, but the more I look at his beautiful face, the more I hate him.
I toss off his jacket and start walking. This stings. In fact, it sucks. And as soon as I’m alone, I’ll cry over him, but at least it’s better to have the pain now.
He catches the jacket. I wanted it to hit him in the face. Unfortunately he has great reflexes.
“Get on. I don’t have time for this childish shit.” He walks the bike toward me. The sun is so blinding that without his helmet, I have to shield the light from my eyes.
“Look. I’m trying to make this easy for you. You helped me out yesterday. You got what you wanted, and I got what I wanted. But now it’s done,” I say as I march to stand under a tree.
“If you make me get off the bike, Antoinette, it won’t be pleasant. Put on my jacket and my helmet and get the fuck on. Your skin is already turning red.”
When he throws the jacket back at me, thankfully I catch it. We both stare at each other as if at war, his eyes shooting daggers at me while I’m trying to catch my breath.
He needs to get us out of here, so I slip on the jacket and walk toward him. He dumps the helmet on me and knocks my hands away to fasten it under my chin.
I don’t care what he thinks, and I wasn’t joking—he helped me and now I’m done. But first, I need to get off this hill.
ANTOINETTE
This time it seemed way longer to get out of Griffith Park than it did coming in. And even longer of a drive to get to the diner he’s finally pulling into.