Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
He’d shared some deep stuff with me, stuff I was sure he didn’t ever want to share.
“So after I recovered, I got back in, and did some fixing in my life. Got better. Took more chances. Did some things that I never want to do again,” he said. “But those things took me to Uncertain, and I’m lucky. I could’ve been dead with all the things I tried to do,” he sighed. “Took stupid risks. Didn’t care about the outcome. Until I saw you.”
“Me?” I asked.
He nodded. “A year or so after I moved to Uncertain, you were in the parking lot of the diner, talking to a man about buying his car.”
I remembered that.
And I remembered exactly the moment he’d come outside.
I hadn’t realized he could hear me, though.
“He tried to stiff me,” I laughed.
Mig rolled over, doing something at the back of my chair with his hands, and suddenly I was flat on my back.
“Do you know how hot it was to hear you talk to a man about a car, and it was clear you knew exactly what you were talking about?” He asked.
I smiled at the memory.
The guy had thought that, because I was a teenaged girl, I knew nothing about cars.
But I did.
And I’d turned that man down so fast his head had spun.
“I was also the reason you got your Mustang,” he said.
I blinked.
I had a nice Cherry Red Mustang.
It ran like a dream, and I’d gotten it for a song. I didn’t drive it unless it was the weekend and I had time to get it out of storage.
When I was younger, it’d been a dream to get that car. As I got older, I realized what kind of prize I had in the Mustang, so I bought a daily driver and saved the Mustang for special occasions. A car like that was meant for special.
“Really? How?” I asked.
Then things started to click.
“Was that car yours?” I asked carefully.
He nodded, looking down into my eyes.
“Kind of. I bought it with you in mind. Fixed it up. Then sold it to you by way of Alison’s friend,” he said.
My mouth gaped.
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
And suddenly, I just couldn’t help it.
I laughed.
I laughed until I cried.
“You’re horrible,” I told him.
He grinned, leaned forward even more, and let me feel his erection.
It was then that I realized he only had his underwear on…and I didn’t have any.
Chapter 22
Please don’t be an asshole to Mig. He’s had years of experience being an asshole. On the asshole scale, he’s an expert, and you’re a beginner. There’s a big difference between the two.
-Annie’s secret thoughts
Annie
I licked my lips, casting a nervous cursory glance around to make sure we were alone.
We were.
The only thing that I could see clearly was the two feet surrounding us.
The soft glow of the moon barely offered enough light to see Mig’s face.
But we were outside, and I could tell by the way he was running his lips along the length of my neck that we wouldn’t be moving inside.
The nightgown I was wearing was slowly inched up my legs, until it was caught under my ass.
“Lift that pretty, little ass of yours,” he whispered gruffly.
I complied, lifting my hips, and subsequently pushing my pussy up against him.
The length of his erection was barely contained by his underwear, and he was hot, hard and oh so ready.
Although, it didn’t take much to get him that way lately.
All it took was a stray look on my part, and he was on me.
But I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
My hands ran up his smooth back, coming to a rest on the base of his neck where I worked my hands into what little hair he had.
Dragging my nails against his scalp, I gasped when he bit by shoulder.
My hips jerked, and I could feel the cool cushion of the lounge chair underneath me.
It was rough on my skin, but I barely noticed as Mig finally worked the nightgown up and over my head.
As soon as it cleared my chest, his lips latched on to one peaked nipple and pulled.
My hands went up above my head, latching onto the metal of the chair as my body arched to meet him.
He planted one elbow in the cushion next to my head, while the other ran up the length of my body, eliciting goose bumps in its wake.
He was working one breast, and I reached up to palm the other. Mig, seeing this, sucked harder, as a shiver chased up my spine.
“Ticklish?” He asked, doing it again.
This time I wasn’t able to withhold the giggle that came with the move, causing him to smile.
“I love you,” he said.
My body froze.
“W-what?” I gasped, giving him my full attention.
His mouth went down to run along my collarbone before it descended to my other nipple.