Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I’m happy to carry her to bed, to slip inside her greedy little cunt even though we’re both too tired, too satisfied to do anything but sleep just like that, with my cock buried deep inside of her.
If a more perfect night, a more perfect girl exists in the world, I can’t think of it. This wild, crazy, wonderful woman has slipped beneath my defenses, has wiggled her way into my life, my bed and fuck, even my heart. I can’t get enough of her, and the worst, scariest part?
I’m not sure I ever will.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kelsey
Instead of taking an Uber of Shame home, I ride on the back of Coop’s bike with a big, unstoppable smile on my face. Can someone die of pleasure? Because even now as the upscale neighborhood whips past me, I feel so over the moon happy and, yeah, a little bit in love that my heart feels as if it just might burst inside of my chest.
It’s not just the sex, either, but I can’t deny that the sex makes me feel connected to Coop in a way I never felt with another boy, another man.
It’s not just how good it is, either. It’s more about the fact that when Coop is underneath me or on top of me, he is solely focused on me. Intimately.
My pleasure seems to be his number one priority, and I can’t even describe how that makes me feel. Beautiful. Desirable. Almost perfect, or at least perfect for him. And what’s more? It makes me want to do the same.
I have never been so turned on in my life by having a cock so deep in my throat, but every little moan, every growly utterance of Coop’s only makes me want to hear those sounds even more.
This morning his fingers tangled in my hair, and his hips thrust in slow upward pushes as I woke him with a good morning blow job. I shiver at the memory, the way he tugged my hair just hard enough to make my eyes water. And my pussy.
This is ridiculous, and even though I know it, I can’t seem to stop myself. I lay my cheek against his back, sure I can feel his heart beating just for me even though it’s probably just the roar of his bike, but that’s how I feel. I think this is how it feels to really and truly love someone else. Not the toxic love my parents pretend to have, where they stay together for the sake of their financial portfolio but fuck other people.
Not the way they pretend to love me and Kenna. As long as we do what they think is right. As if my parents would know right if it walked right up and smacked them in the head.
No, this is real. Real and all-consuming and more intoxicating than the Kentucky moonshine Kenna and I stole at last year’s Derby.
“Earth to Kelsey.” Coop’s amused tone pulls me from my terrifying but exciting thoughts as he cruises to a stop in front of my father’s house.
“You all right, babe?” he says over his shoulder.
Babe. It’s a word I would normally reject on feminist principles alone, but when Coop says it, I feel as if he’s claiming me. Telling me I’m his in the best way he knows how. I look up with a dreamy smile and nod.
“Sorry, yeah. I’m good, just back in the shower.”
His lips curl into a lopsided grin that does really wicked things to me.
“I’ll be hearing your moans of pleasure echo against the walls every time I take a piss.”
I laugh at his crude but honest way of telling me that he feels the same way. “Not how I would put it, but yeah, exactly.”
Coop shrugs. “You’re the college girl with the big vocabulary, not me.”
“Bullshit,” I call and slip one leg over the bike, overcoming my shaky legs on my own. “I’ve been inside your place now, Coop. I know you love to read everything from mysteries to historical biographies. I even spotted a copy of Wuthering Heights on your shelves.”
His cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink even as he tries to shrug off my observation. “It’s Ma’s favorite book. She sent it to me a few years back after I tracked down an old copy of it for Mother’s Day.”
My heart does somersaults in my chest because a man who loves his mother that way is a good man. No matter what he thinks. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He rolls blue eyes and tugs an arm around my waist, pulling me close until we’re chest to chest.
“Considerate,” he supplies with a grin.
“Sweet. Adorable.”
He growls and takes my list in a hard, hot kiss that’s anything but sweet. Or adorable. “I gotta go,” he whispers quickly in my ear.