Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
"What do you usually have when you're craving something sweet?" I ask.
He turns and looks at me over his shoulder. "I never get the thing I'm really craving," he says flatly.
"That must be some self-control," I tell him. "I have a sweet tooth. Whenever I'm stressed out or anything, I always want to make something extra yummy."
"Are you stressed out right now? Is that why you're making a cake?" In the kitchen he begins opening and closing his cupboards quickly. Looking for sugar, I assume, but he hardly has any food at all. This place is an ultimate bachelor pad.
I twist my lips, not minding the view at all. "I'm not anxious, exactly. More like spun up."
"Todd and Jane that hard to work for?"
"Um, nothing about the job, just personal things that have me a little distracted," I say, looking him up and down.
"Aha," he says, opening a cupboard and pulling out a bag of cane sugar. "I knew I had something in here. This work?"
"Sure," I say.
He takes my measuring cup and fills it up to the top. "So you were saying, you're distracted?"
"Yeah," I say, running a hand through my hair. "Distracted, all right."
"And you think making this cake is going to help?"
"Well, it'll give me something to do. I don't exactly have a life here in Bremerton. I just moved here."
"You sure you want something sweet?" he asks. "Sometimes when I'm hungry, I'm really craving something savory."
I laugh. "Oh, I know what I want," I say, looking straight at him.
He runs a hand over the base of his neck. "I should probably go get changed."
"You don't have to change on my account," I say.
He steps toward me with the cup of sugar between us. "You know you could always make that cake here if you wanted."
I swallow. "Oh yeah?" I ask. "You want to watch me bake a cake?"
He nods slowly. "Yeah. I wouldn't mind watching you stir up some batter." He steps closer now, and there's hardly any space between us at all.
"But do you have all the ingredients for a cake?" I ask him. I look up, my breathing growing shallow. "I'd need butter and flour and baking powder. Eggs?"
He grins. "Damn. You're right. I don't have any of those things."
"So should I leave?" I ask. He's still holding my cup of sugar.
"Or maybe we could make something else," he says.
At that, I exhale, long and slow. "What were you thinking we could make if we're not going to bake a cake?"
"It might sound cheesy, but how about we make some magic?" He leans down then and kisses me, full on the lips, and I wrap my arms around his neck without hesitation.
"Oh my God," I say into his mouth.
He pulls back. "Is this okay?"
"Yes it’s okay. When I said I was distracted, I was only distracted by thoughts of you. I can't get you out of my mind, Major."
He grins, his hands moving to my ass, and he squeezes my cheeks, a smile on his face. And damn, that man has dimples. "I was hoping that was the case, but I didn't want to assume."
I stand on my tippy toes. I let this big hulk of a man wrap his arms around me and kiss me again.
Screw the cake. His batter's what I really need.
5
MAJOR
I could take this girl anywhere: the kitchen counter, the couch—but what I really want is her in my bed. It’s the dream I’ve had for the last two nights. Her curly hair splayed across my pillows, her creamy skin bare and mine for the taking. Her big tits bouncing as I claim her.
Now, her arms are around my neck and I lift her ass, hands on her cute butt, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Her curvy little body is pressed against my chest, her lips against my mouth, and fuck, I could lose my load right here.
“I’m carrying you to the bedroom, understand?”
She nods. “Whatever you say, Major.”
“You always so good at taking orders?” I ask.
“Just from you.”
“We just met. Are you sure you can trust a stranger with your body?” I set her down on my bed, leaning over her as she lies back against my pillows.
“You don't feel like a stranger. You’ve had your eyes on me all weekend.”
“Was I that obvious?” I ask, running my hand over her breasts, squeezing them ever so gently. My cock aches as I move my hand under her tank top, feeling her bra, the curve of her breast.
“I thought it was cute. Made me feel safe too.” She presses her lips together, closes her eyes. She loves me touching her, which just turns me on even more.
“I want to make you feel safe. And feel good too,” I say, meaning it. I want to devote myself to making this woman under me feel incredible.