Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I have wonderful friends, hobbies that bring me joy, work I find both challenging and exciting, and dreams I feel confident I can make come true.
Well, except one…
After years of being friend-zoned and dismissed as a person worthy of romantic interest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the husband and family I once saw as part of my future. But I’d started to accept that maybe not all dreams come true, and that maybe that was okay.
After all, even without romantic love in my life, I have never wanted for affection, care, or support.
But on Tuesday morning, as I wake to Anthony's lips on my neck and his hands sliding over my body with reverent care, I feel like everything I’ve wanted is within reach. I’ve been given an embarrassment of riches in this incredible man who, in just a few days, has made up for every lonely night I spent at home, wondering if I’d ever be the girl asked to go to the dance.
Every one of those hard nights was worth it because they all led me here to him.
“Again?” I tease, even as I arch into his touch.
We made love most of the day yesterday, hunkering down in the apartment as a storm dumped another six inches on an already snow-covered Manhattan. We ate leftovers, played Scrabble, read books curled up together in bed, and took a nap with Pudge in the afternoon, before kicking him out to protect the innocence of his eyes as we made love before heading down to order smoky BBQ from one of Anthony’s favorite restaurants.
I’m so sore, my intimate places feel bruised, but that doesn’t stop me from lifting my arms, making it easier for Anthony to strip my nightgown over my head.
“If you’re sick of me, tell me to stop,” he murmurs against my neck as his hand brings my body to life. “I can control myself, I promise.”
“Please don’t,” I say, sucking in a turned-on breath as he guides my leg up and over his and enters me from behind.
He goes slow, giving me time to adjust, and just a few minutes later, I’m coming for him again, basking in the thrill of all the sweet and filthy things he groans into my ear as he joins me.
Things about how good my tight little pussy feels.
How beautiful I am…
How sexy…
How perfect…
And I feel perfect with him, so perfect I never want this week to end.
And maybe it doesn’t have to. We haven’t spoken about the elephant in the room since Sunday, when we both admitted this doesn’t feel like pretend, but I feel confident that we will. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it and hopefully find a way forward that feels as idyllic as these first few days.
Afterwards, I snuggle against him, admiring the way the early morning light sparkles off fresh snow outside, so grateful to be warm and safe beneath the cozy down comforter with the man of my dreams.
“We should get up,” he says, but makes no move to throw off the covers. “I’m sure Pudge is ready for breakfast.”
I trace patterns on his chest. Even the crisp hair on his chest is perfect—not too much, not too little. “Pudge is always ready for breakfast. He’ll be okay. Just five more minutes… Or ten. We won’t be able to be lazy in bed tomorrow. I have to be up and out early for the inspection meeting at the apartment.”
He tenses for a beat before his arms tighten around me. "That’s right. I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I can come with you, after all.”
I lift my head, studying him in the soft morning light. “It’s okay. You don’t have to. You said you had a meeting with your financial advisor that couldn’t be rescheduled, right?”
The idea that Anthony has a financial advisor as an escort is kind of wild. But it’s also kind of adorable. He’s clearly doing very well for himself in this alternative line of work.
Probably too well to want to give it up to play house with a small-town girl fresh from the sticks, my inner voice frets, but I ignore it the best I can.
Yes, Anthony and I are going to have to discuss his job eventually—and I’ll have to be honest with him that him sleeping with other women, even if it’s just business, is a dealbreaker for me—but I’m still in “present moment” mode. I refuse to do anything to ruin a moment of our time together.
The hard stuff can wait for a few more days.
“I do, but this feels more important,” he says. “I don’t want you going down there alone. Even to the safer subway station. If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. I’ll call my advisor later and see what I can figure out.”