Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I shove the device deeper into my lap, making sure the table completely obscures it from any prying eyes. Because Frankie like this, with red lips and her body wrapped in lace, is only for me.
“Gentleman.” My chair screeches as I push back from the table and stand, not caring one bit if I’m being rude. “I’m afraid I have to head out.” I smooth a hand down my chest, clearing my throat. “Urgent business. We’ll have to pick this back up sometime next week.”
Without waiting for a reply, I turn on my heel and stride toward the door.
I probably look like a pompous jackass, but Ben will smooth things over. He’s the one who insisted on us taking this job anyway.
That photo runs on a constant loop in my mind as I make the drive to our home—the one we built together on the far side of my parent’s property—in record time. But when I come racing through the front door, I can't help but deflate a little; my wife is nowhere to be seen.
“I’m home!” I holler, certain she’ll reply, but I’m met with nothing but silence. So, I text her.
Me: I’m home.
Her reply is instant.
Bluebird: Come find me…
I toss my wallet and keys onto the table in the foyer, before stalking back toward the bedroom. She’s in the mood for games, and I’m definitely in the mood to play.
“Bluebird,” I call for her again as I step into the darkened room, anticipation causing my pulse to drum in my throat.
She still doesn’t answer, but a familiar tune drifts from the speakers… the one she danced to the first night I saw her all those years ago.
“What’s going on?” I ask, wondering where my girl is hiding and what exactly she’s up to.
“Have a seat,” she murmurs from somewhere out of sight.
I sink into the mattress dead center at the foot of the bed, my eyes scanning the room for any hint of where she’s hiding.
Adrenaline thrums through me in perfect harmony with the music as I lean forward, branding my forearms on my thighs.
“Have you missed me?” I snap my gaze toward the sound of her raspy voice, just in time to see her step into view, the light from the bathroom perfectly illuminating her silhouette.
She looks so damn fine my tongue nearly lolls out of my mouth as she slinks closer.
The music should’ve been a clue; Birdie is here and she wants to play.
Dressed in a red lace bralette with a plunging neckline and a barely-there black school-girl skirt, she’s my every filthy fantasy come to life.
“You know I have.” As soon as she’s close enough to touch, I reach out, skimming my knuckles beneath the hem of her skirt, not missing her sharp intake of breath. “What about you? Have you missed me?”
She drags her teeth over her glossy red lip, coming to stand between my spread legs. “Always.”
Leaning back onto the bed, I prop myself up with my arms. “Show me how much.”
Frankie rocks her hips from side-to-side, her eyes locked on mine as she trails the backs of her hands up her sides and over her belly, until she’s cupping her breasts.
The erotic sight has me catching my breath.
She steps in closer, so that her knees are flush with the foot of the bed, her small fingers tugging and pinching her nipples through the lace as she writhes in time with the song.
So fucking hot.
“That’s right, Bluebird. Play with those pretty tits. Pretend it’s my hands.” My throat goes dry. My dick impossibly hard.
“Or…” She moves to straddle my right thigh and grabs my hands, placing them on her breasts. “You can play instead.”
“Fuck yeah.” I tug the lace cups down and rub my thumbs over the rosy pebbled peaks before leaning forward and drawing her right nipple into my mouth, sucking hard.
“Orion!” The breathy way she says my name goes straight to my cock.
I move to her other tit, and she arches her back, pushing them farther into my face. I lick and nip and suck, damn near suffocating in her cleavage.
They almost seem… bigger, but I shake off the thought. Frankie’s tits are perfect at any size.
“Touch me here, too,” she says, redirecting my focus to her bare pussy.
“No panties?” I arch a brow, dragging the knuckle of my index finger up and down through her slick folds.
“Why bother when you’re just going to take them off of me?”
Sliding two fingers inside of her, I give her a wicked grin and press my thumb to her clit. “Don’t you know unwrapping your present is half the fun?”
She licks her lips, swiveling her hips in a figure-eight. “Then, fi-finish unwrapping m-me,” she stammers, as I curl my fingers in a come-hither motion inside of her.
“I think I’d rather unravel you.” Leaning forward, I shove her skirt up to her waist, dipping low enough to brush a kiss against her swollen pussy lips.