Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
My fingers moved to the scrap of fabric that ran south between her ass cheeks, and I slowly wrapped my fist around it and tightened my grip, pulling it tight so that the fabric slipped between her pussy lips. Pressed against her clit.
Giving her pressure where she needed it most.
She moaned, her mouth working harder on my neck, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that when I went back out to the party, I’d have a very blatant love bite to wear.
I didn’t care.
Nothing mattered at that point but her and me.
The way she was making me feel.
How great she felt pressed against me.
How perfect she tasted.
The way she smelled.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Why does that feel good?”
She wiggled her hips, indicating that what I was doing to her between her legs was feeling good.
I knew it did.
I could feel her grinding with each tug of her thong.
She pulled away, her hands pressing lightly on my chest to indicate that she wanted me to move backward.
I did, knowing exactly what she was going for despite her having not reached for it yet.
My suspicion was proven right moments later when she reached for the zipper of my jeans.
I watched as she unzipped the zipper, being careful of the bulge, and reached inside.
My hand on her thong was pulled free and she used the distraction of having her hand on my dick to reverse our positions.
I let her go completely when she moved, pressing me against the wall this time.
She leaned forward, pressing herself against me like a cat, and slowly started to slide down the length of my body.
Before she could get to my waist, my phone rang and I lazily glanced at my damn watch on my wrist, the stupid fucking watch that my mother had begged me to wear because it was ‘safe,’ and my blood ran cold.
Brad.
Brad was calling me.
What the fuck was Brad calling me for?
I felt sick to my stomach as I pulled away from her as if she was burning my skin.
“No!” she cried out, her hands pulling me in close.
I responded to the despair in her cry.
Viciously, I pulled away, but I didn’t leave.
Nope.
I couldn’t.
Not then, and definitely not with the raging erection that was practically driving my every thought right now.
Grabbing hold of her wrist, I tugged her quickly into the first room I found, the men’s bathroom, and slammed the door closed.
Seeing that there wasn’t a lock, I had no choice but to continue to tug her into the handicap stall and lock that door.
Without waiting for her to say a word, I started to unbutton my jeans.
She watched, eyes wide, as I unbuttoned, unzipped, and pressed them down slightly so that my cock could slip free.
Her eyes settled on my dick, fully engorged and dying for her.
“Looks kind of painful,” she admitted.
It was.
My dick was so hard that it was a mottled purple. And let’s not even begin to talk about how much I’d wanted her over the past week. How hard it’d been to stay away, even though every single cell in my body was withering and dying to be inside of her.
“Not too bad,” I lied. “Take your panties off. That one time was fun and all, just pulling them to the side, but I’d rather be able to fuck you later and not have to worry about my dick chafing.”
“Later? Not right now?” she whispered.
My eyes met hers. “Now and later.”
Because even if I had to sneak in to do it, I’d be staying with her tonight.
Just for tonight.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
More likely, I’d cave. I’d do the stupid, selfish thing and choose to make my heart happy. And not keep her safe.
“Take them off,” I urged again.
Seeing that I was more than serious, she reached up underneath her skirt and slowly pulled her panties down the length of her legs.
When they fell freely to the tops of her feet, she bent down and pulled them off, stepping out of them one by one before holding the panties out to me.
I reached forward and took them, bunching them in my fist and feeling them soaked just before I shoved them into my pocket.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall,” I ordered.
She presented me with her back just as I heard the bathroom door open and the sound of two male voices rushing inside.
“They’re pulling out the beer. Thank fucking God,” an unfamiliar voice said as I stalked my way toward Carolina.
She looked at me warily over her shoulder, but I pressed my finger to my lips and silently told her to be quiet as I urged her to fully face the wall again.
She did, her forehead pressing against the soft blue painted wall, and then bent over slightly to give me a better angle for what she knew was coming.