Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
“There’s no way you can fit on my sofa. You’re huge.” When her eyes roam down my chest, then dart away, all the blood in my body flows to my cock.
“So you’re giving me your bed?” I tease her, and it earns me another smack.
“Not a chance. I can't even sleep on this thing, and believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Will you let me cuddle with you if I promise to be good?” I give her my best innocent look but she pretends to be annoyed as she gets up off the couch.
“Fine. But you better not snore.”
“I don’t think you’d notice if I did.”
She looks back over her shoulder at me and narrows her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that you’re cute when you talk in your sleep.”
“I do not!” Her mouth falls open and she looks around for something to throw at me, but by the time she grabs a pencil I’ve got a pillow up to block it.
She laughs with me and then tries to cover a yawn.
“Come on, let me put you to bed. You’ve had a long day.”
“I’m not a toddler. I can manage to get into bed on my own,” she says, but doesn’t stop me from following her.
I go over to my bag in her room and grab a shirt out of it. “Here, you can wear this.”
She looks at it for a quick second and doesn’t protest as she takes it from me and goes into her bathroom. I hear the water running and a few moments later she comes out fresh faced and wearing my shirt. Her hair is down and over one shoulder, and damn, she’s never looked more beautiful. I can see her eyes are tired and she’s probably stressed from all of the travel these past few days and then studying and oh, that threat on her life hanging over everything. More than anything I want to be able to give her a little peace, so when she slides into bed and under the covers I kick off my shoes and move my hands to my belt.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes widen as she watches me unfasten my pants and take them off before folding them neatly and placing them on the chair.
“Getting ready for bed.” Her eyes roam over my chest just before I take off my shirt and drape it on the chair too. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I’ll sleep on top.”
Her lips part a little as I climb onto the bed and tuck the covers around her. She’s frozen solid for a second until she realizes what I meant as I make sure and wrap her up. God, this is almost worse than me just spreading her legs and going to town. Somehow the innocence of this is intimate and deeper than a lust-filled frenzy. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to see how soft her thighs feel on either side of my face, but this is so much closer than that.
“It’s in the bedside drawer,” she says to me softly, and then I’m confused.
“What is?”
“The red notebook. That’s the latest story I’ve been working on. It’s about a woman who travels to Egypt in search of an ancient tomb and ends up falling in love with her guide.”
Even in the soft lamplight of her room I can see the deep color of her cheeks. She tucks her chin and burrows into the blankets as she closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep. I give her this out because she may not want to face the fact that she trusted me enough to tell me, but she did tell me. She bared just the slightest bit of her most precious secret and I won’t belittle that by making a joke.
Instead I lean down and gently kiss her forehead, then turn over and open the drawer. Inside is the red notebook and a couple of pens beside it, along with a black zipper bag. I touch the zipper, wondering what’s inside, and then realize the outline is the exact size and shape of what can only be a dildo. Did she mean for me to see this or did she assume I wouldn't know?
The base of my cock tightens as I get harder and try to hide my obvious erection just as I run my fingers over the black pouch. What would if feel like to use this on her? Could I get her off as fast as she can do it herself?
I feel her move just a little on the other side of me and decide to pack those thoughts away for later. Like when I’m in the shower. I grab the red notebook and get comfortable.
From the first page I’m not only captivated because it’s Berkley’s writing, but because she’s an incredible storyteller. I love the heroine and how adventurous she is and even how she plays hard to get. I can see so many similarities between her and Berkley and I wonder if it’s intentional. At first, I have a lot of questions, but the more I read, the more I forget about the incredible woman beside me who wrote it and I’m simply enthralled by the story that’s unfolding.