Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
I give her two thumbs-up. “You look hot.”
“So do you.” She high-fives me, then gives gun fingers to Hollis and Roman. “And so do you and you. This calls for a selfie.”
“I hate selfies,” Roman grumbles.
“Same,” Hollis says.
“Don’t be a curmudgeon, Daddy. You either, Hollis. It’s good for your social media.” Roman rolls his eyes as she pulls out her phone. She pokes Hollis in the cheek until he reluctantly smiles. She gives kissy lips to the camera and snaps a pic.
There’s another knock on the door. “That’s Harold. I think my new workout gear arrived.”
Hollis opens the door. The box Harold is holding most definitely doesn’t contain workout gear. Hollis gives him a twenty-dollar tip and takes the box. I try to give him the money back, but he waves it away.
“Your workout gear looks more like it might be a cake,” Hammer says.
“It’s from my favorite bakery.” The other day I said I would give my left boob for a slice of white chocolate mousse cake after Tristan and I had three-hour marathon sex. But it was late, and the only thing open was the convenience store down the street. Tristan brought back a cake from the frozen section. It curbed the craving but doesn’t hold a candle to anything from Just Desserts.
“Is it your birthday?” Hollis asks.
“No. It’s in the summer.”
“Did Tristan buy you cake because he loves your vagina?” Hammer asks.
Roman coughs.
“Chill out, Daddy. Everyone knows they’re boning. It’s borderline NSFW when they look at each other.” She waves her dad off. “Is there a card? Let’s see what he got you.”
“I don’t know for sure that it’s from Tristan.” Although the odds are in his favor. There’s no card though. I peel the sticker free and flip open the lid.
Hammer barks out a laugh. “Only Tristan would do this.”
“I’d like to say I can’t believe this, but I can totally believe this.”
Roman looks over my shoulder and chuckles while rubbing his chin. “Boy’s in deep.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as my face heats.
Hollis moves in for a closer look. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Any man who has a cake like this made has to be head over ass in love. He literally can’t get enough of you. And it’s good to know he’s taking care of all your needs. He’s not worth your time if he’s not going downtown. Isn’t that right, Hollis?”
“Oh my God, Dad.” Hammer looks scandalized.
“Yup, one hundred percent.” Hollis thumbs over his shoulder. “I’m going to pull the car around. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Seriously. If he’s obsessed enough to send you this cake, the guy is in love.” Roman pats me on the shoulder.
I snap a pic of the pretty icing flowers and the loopy cursive that reads Please sit on my face. In a few clicks, I send it on to Tristan with a message.
Rix
Happily.
“Looks like I’m spending the night at your place, Dad,” Hammer says.
“Oh my God, that’s it. Don’t stop, don’t stop! So goddamn close.” I’m gripping the headboard, straddling Tristan’s face while he hoovers my clit like he’s performing an exorcism. They won the game tonight. We went to the bar, I humped his leg and ground my ass on his cock on the dance floor, and now here we are. Me doing exactly what his cake requested.
“You gonna come on my face?” Tristan slaps my right ass cheek.
I moan, grab a fistful of hair, and grind down on his mouth. How he can breathe with his nose jammed against my pubic bone is a wonder, but he’s not tapping out. He grabs my ass and helps move me over his mouth. My legs are shaking as the orgasm builds. He knows exactly how to keep me on the edge and make me want more. Suddenly a finger presses against door number two.
My grinding falters. “What are you doing?”
He takes a brief break from fucking my pussy with his tongue to reply, “Priming you.” He eases a finger into my ass and latches onto my clit, sucking hard.
The orgasm slams into me like a bulldozer. I make a bunch of excessively loud noises that are half moan/half scream, interspersed with garbled words that don’t make any sense. The world turns into a starburst for several seconds as sensation drags me into the blissful abyss. I’m so out of it that I don’t even realize he’s flipped me onto my back until the world comes back into focus and I’m staring at the ceiling.
Tristan is stretched out between my thighs, massive shoulders forcing my legs wide. His chin glistens with girl-gasm. His hot gaze meets mine as he gently laps my clit and that insidious finger slides in deeper.
“Oh my God.” My hips buck involuntarily. I’m on sensation overload. And I’m still coming.
He prowls up my body. When we’re face to face, a second finger presses against my opening and joins the first, stretching me. “I’m getting in here tonight, little Bea.”