Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Do you think this is turning me off?”
“I don’t know. I just stay one hundred percent honest with you and hope for the best.”
“Oh dear,” she whispered, brushing her lips along his jawline. “That turns me on, too. We’re not even going to make it home.”
Jack’s magic beanstalk was almost at full height. “Tire.”
“Forget the tire,” she purred, touching her tongue to his earlobe.
Colors and shapes blurred in front of his eyes. “What t-tire?”
Footsteps approached from August’s right and he moved on instinct, stepping back from the V of Natalie’s thighs and pushing her knees together. There was only one person that had the privilege of seeing her panties and that person had been reduced to monosyllables.
Someone slapped him on the back.
“Thank you again for your assistance, Cates.”
August looked back over his shoulder to find one of the police officers holding his hand out for a shake. But thanks to his beanstalk being at full maturity, he could only turn partially and slap his hand into the officer’s waiting palm. “Don’t mention it.” The guy just stood there nodding and grinning, shifting in his boots. Oh man, August knew that look. He was seconds from getting invited out for a beer with the bros. “I need to get my wife home before she catches a cold.”
Natalie ran a knuckle down his happy trail and he almost swallowed his tongue. “The only thing I’m going to catch,” she whispered for his ears alone, “is this di—”
“All right, you take care, man. Let’s have a beer sometime,” August blurted, pushing Natalie’s legs into the truck, his blood thickening like hot gravy. At this point, he didn’t even care who saw his boner, as long as he got the woman home in the next ten minutes. Rest in peace to his headboard. In a few long strides, he was around the front bumper, diving into the driver’s side and reversing through the maze of emergency vehicles. “Oh, you are going to get it, Natalie queen princess Cates.”
She slid gracefully across the front row of his truck, pressing her mouth to his shoulder. Kissing, licking . . . and biting down in way that sent his balls up into his throat.
“Fuck.”
“Yes, please.” She gripped his cock through the wet material of his sweatpants and in one big, shuddering breath, he fogged up every single window of the truck. “And I don’t need you to take it easy on me. Our make-up sex was interrupted this morning. Maybe it should be a little . . .”
“Rough.” He fumbled for the defroster with a growl. “You have no idea how bad you’re making it hurt, princess.”
That magic hand of hers started to stroke him up and down. “Pull over and show me.”
“Natalie,” he groaned, trying to blink away the tiny dots of light spinning in front of his eyes. “I think you might be short-circuiting my brain.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, not looking the least bit contrite. Jesus, what was coming next?
When she stripped the soaked nightshirt over her head, he had his answer.
In a mere scrap of panties, she resumed jacking him off, but this time her hand had entered the end zone. It was inside his sweatpants doing the Lord’s work, playing with his balls and tugging on his cock gently, with a grip that increased in pressure, then got rough.
“Son of a bitch,” he hissed through his teeth, forcing himself to breathe and focus on the road. If he crashed his truck with Natalie in the passenger seat, he’d probably die from the horror alone. “I can’t pull over into the woods, Natalie. I’m not risking you getting struck by lightning or . . . God, another flooded road—”
“I’m safe as long as you’re with me.”
Now she was stroking his ego, too? He was man enough to know when he’d lost a battle. “You’re damn right you are, princess.”
Her hand was going for broke now. Was someone singing opera in the rear cab of his truck or was that all in his head? “Taking a quick break from our argument to let you know this is the best hand job I’ve ever had in my life. And about ninety-nine percent of those were performed by me, an expert on my own dick. You’re absolutely nailing it.”
Those lips curved into a smile against his jaw, her low-pitched hum coursing through him. “You know what would feel even better . . .”
“Your pussy? Yeah, it’s pretty much the only thing I’m capable of thinking about.”
“Pull over,” she cajoled, cupping and massaging his balls.
August gritted his teeth and searched for a break in the trees. There was one around here somewhere. He’d used it to make a K-turn a hundred times after forgetting to buy cat food at the store. Come on, come on. Point of no return. He was going to come in his pants.