Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
A moment passes as we each catch our breath and before I know it, his other hand slides back down my body. He keeps moving in and out of me, lazy, pleasurable strokes, and I let out a satisfied sigh as his fingers find my clit. He rubs slow circles, and despite just how hard I came, he works my body up again.
Dalton continues teasing my nipple, playing with it as though it were the most intriguing thing he’s ever seen. Then just like that, I come again, my whole world completely blinded by unadulterated pleasure.
Letting me come down from my high, Dalton pulls free of me and steps back, giving me a moment to find myself before he moves around the pole and takes my wrists. He unties my ruined shirt while keeping his sharp, skillful gaze locked on mine. Not a single word passes between us, but each of our thoughts are loud and clear—that was simply amazing.
“I’ve fucked around with plenty of chicks,” he tells me. “But none of them feel as fucking good as you do.”
“Wow,” I say with a stupid smirk. “Smart man. Boasting about all the chicks he’s been with just seconds after fucking me bareback. Remind me to go and get tested tomorrow.”
Dalton laughs as my hands fall free, and he steps in toward me. “I wasn’t trying to boast about the fact I’ve been a fucking whore. I was trying to explain how that sweet little cunt of yours fit around me like a fucking glove and that I plan on sinking into it every damn chance I get. Morning, noon, or fucking night, I’m gonna be right there, spreading those pretty thighs, and you better be ready for me because I won’t be holding back. You and me, we’re about to make magic.”
Holding his stare, I soften my gaze, letting him see just how ready I am. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” I tell him. “But if I get even a hint that you’re getting attached, I’ll cut you off cold turkey. I’m not interested in becoming someone’s girlfriend. I’m happy to fuck around, but that’s as far as we go.”
“Same rules apply for you,” he says, that same stupid smirk reflected on his face. “I’m not one to talk myself up, but I’m a pretty fucking awesome guy. You’re the one at risk of falling in love with me.”
I scoff, reaching for my pants and quickly stepping into them. “Oh, you’re not one to talk yourself up?” I question, both of us knowing damn well that’s all he’s been doing since the moment I met him, though for once, a guy actually followed through with his promises and I wasn’t left disappointed. “Could have fooled me.”
Dalton laughs and strides past me, finding his shirt and tossing it to me before grabbing his pants. I hook my bra and pull his shirt over my head, his heavenly scent wrapping around me. We cut back across the court and he grabs the ball, shooting one last hoop before chasing after it and putting it back where he found it.
I stand over my discarded kebab, my heart breaking as it stares back at me. “Do you think it’s still good to eat?”
“It’s your funeral,” he tells me. “Personally, I’d still eat it. But I want it stated, if it goes right through you and you start shitting yourself, I’m ditching you on the side of the road. I didn’t sign up for that, and Candice sure as fuck didn’t either.”
My brows furrow as I glance up at him. “Candice?”
“Ahh, and here I was thinking you weren’t the jealous type.”
“I’m not, but when you mention a name I don’t know, it’s only human to be curious.”
A grin widens across his face. “Candice Swanepoel, Victoria’s Secret supermodel. I named my bike after her.”
A booming laugh tears from deep in my chest. “Why am I not surprised?” I ask just as his phone chimes from deep in his pocket.
Dalton lets out a heavy sigh, almost sounding irritated at having our night interrupted, and reluctantly fishes his phone out of his pocket. He swipes his thumb across the screen and quickly glances over a text before sighing again. He goes to put his phone away when another text comes through just a second later, this one making his lips press into a hard line, his gaze becoming stony and cold.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, dropping his phone into his pocket and glancing back at me, his eyes still sparkling in the moonlight, trying to shake it off. “But we better get going. It’s getting late.”
I nod, scooping up my half-eaten kebab and dumping it in the trash as Dalton presses a hand to my lower back. He leads me toward the elevator and we don’t have to wait for the doors to open. We sail back down just as fast as we came up, and I find myself glancing over at him.