Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Someone’s coming,” he says with a lopsided smirk. “Both of us, if I have anything to do with it.”
I roll my eyes but smile up at him goofily. “I mean, your brothers or other housemates?”
“They’re out,” is his hurried response as he licks his lips, his light eyes roving over my body.
“But they could come back.”
“They never do this early.” He starts unbuttoning my jeans and tugs at the waistband. I lift my hips, and he drags them down so quickly they get tangled at my ankles. I’m bent in two, and he’s wrestling to get me naked, and it’s so ridiculous that I start to laugh, and he does, too.
By the time my legs are free, and I’m wearing only panties and a bra that is no longer serving its purpose, I’ve been laughing too much to be bothered by the exposure. But then Hayes’ reverential gaze softens as he stares at my baby pink lace panties and drags his finger over the little ribbon bow at the center. “You’re so pretty, Riley. Everything about you. You’re like a cake, frosted and sweet and perfect.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if he was hinting at something about my hockey-baking channel, but the longing that drives his hands to span my soft waist and hook his fingers at the edge of my panties is just about my body.
“Can I take these off?”
“Yes,” I whisper. It won’t be the first time a man has seen my pussy, but it’s the first time I’m so excited about it. I’m pretty sure I’ve soaked through the fabric, and what he’s going to find beneath will be warm and wet.
I keep myself trimmed in the lady garden area but not bald. A little fluff is womanly, and any man who doesn’t like it can go bury his face in someone else’s unlucky pussy. Hayes is ecstatic at what he finds as he tosses my underwear to the ground. Although there’s always an element of shyness when getting naked with a new partner, it’s not like that with Hayes. He’s warm and eager in a way that makes me feel appreciated and wanted.
My hand moves to his chest, the solid warmth of him grounding me, and he groans softly as I trail lower. Then he backs up, dipping his face between my legs, and my whole world narrows to the anticipated press of his tongue.
He doesn’t just savor, that’s for sure. There’s nothing tentative about the way he approaches my body. It’s like his need to taste me has overwhelmed his restraint, and when his tongue laps at me, it’s with a frenzy that makes me reach behind my head to grip the sofa’s armrest.
The groan that rumbles from his throat is long and vibrates against my sensitized flesh. I get lost in the lapping and the sucking and the way he scoops my ass into his hands and tips it so I’m spread open at the perfect angle.
No lover has ever made me feel this delicious or this wanton. Or comfortable. That’s the main part of this that I’m struggling to comprehend. It shouldn’t be this right, not with our history or after what happened before.
I should have reservations. I should need more time. But I don’t. I trust this man to try his best to give me what I need.
There’s no rush for me to finish. I don’t get that awkward feeling that he’s getting impatient. He just focuses on the task at hand in the same way he approaches hockey. He’s there to get the job done, and he’ll keep going until he’s reached his goal
I writhe and groan, and he stills me with his big hands, eyes meeting mine across the naked plain of my body. “Fuck Hayes,” I groan. “Don’t stop,” and his responding groan is the trigger to my orgasm.
There’s no easy slide into pleasure. I’m yanked into oblivion like he got a hand on the back of my jersey to pull me from the end zone. My body arches, and my thighs close hard around his head. My hand grips his hair, holding him absolutely still because I can’t take more than he’s given me. It’s too blinding, too pulsing, too all-consuming.
“That’s it,” he mutters. “That’s it, Riley. Fucking come for me.”
And I do. I do. I do. It goes on forever until I’m nothing but a twisting rope of flesh and ecstasy.
It’s only when I come down and open my eyes that I find Shawn standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face.
14
JAC0B
I shouldn’t be out. My eyes ache with exhaustion, my head pounds like someone’s taken a club to it, and all I really want is to crawl into bed—or maybe schedule a lobotomy and ask if they can cut out the gnawing hollow in my chest while they’re at it. But no. Here I am, at The Red Devil on a Monday night, trying to convince myself that being here is living my life.