Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I laugh, holding it out. “You read my mind.”
He gestures to a passing waiter, who promptly fills my glass with more champagne. “So, what do you think of the newlyweds?” Lake asks, his tone teasing.
“They’re perfect together,” I say, glancing over at Hartford and Paxton as they pose for another photo. “I’ve never seen Hartford so happy.”
Lake raises his glass in a toast. “To love and happiness,” he says, clinking his glass against mine.
“To love and happiness,” I echo, taking a sip and feeling the warmth of the champagne and the joy of the moment wash over me.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his voice low and threadbare.
“Thank you,” I say, looking into his blue eyes.
There was a time when I thought Lake Spriggs hung the moon. I really thought him and I were going to create a life together. Sure, we weren’t fireworks in the bedroom, but I never believed that was important. I honestly didn’t think true sparks like that actually existed in real life.
Until I had sex with Brock. And it rocked my world.
I can honestly say, Brock rocks.
“I know you’re with Brock and I’m not trying to win you back or anything like that. I can see now that you’re happy with him. I’ve actually never seen you look so happy since I’ve known you.”
“I appreciate that,” I say, leaning against the hallway wall.
“Brock’s a lucky guy, and I just wanted to tell you I’m really sorry. I never truly knew what I had.” Lake hangs his head, his eyes trained on the floor. “I wish I had known what was mine before it was too late.”
“Good thing I do,” Brock says, stepping up beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “I know what a lucky bastard I am, and I’m still trying to figure out what I did to deserve Willow so I can keep doing it.” Brock leans in, placing a kiss along the side of my neck, just below my ear, causing me to shiver. “My girl loves it when I kiss her there.”
Lake nods. “Yeah, congratulations to you both,” he says, walking away from his.
Brock turns to face me. “You okay?”
I feel like I want to cry. And it’s not because of Lake. No, it has everything to do with how Brock kissed me, knowing that I do love being kissed in that exact spot. I want to tell him so many things, but before I can, Brock grabs my hand.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says, leading me further down the corridor, away from the gathering crowd of the wedding guests. “I saw a small little closet along here earlier.” He keeps moving, and I set my champagne flute down on a table we pass by.
“What are we doing?” I ask with a laugh.
Brock finds what he’s looking for, and opens the door. He leads me inside, slamming and locking the door shut. “I can’t wait another minute to be inside you.” He pushes me up against the door, kissing along my neck, causing me to moan out.
“Brock, we shouldn’t be here,” I tell him.
His eyes meet mine briefly. “I know. Isn’t it exciting?” He bunches up the bottom of my dress in his hands, trying to get underneath.
Our lips fuse together, and we’re kissing before I even realize he’s pushing his dick at my entrance.
“You’re a quick worker,” I tell him, smiling as I break the kiss.
He laughs a little. “Yeah, I just want in there really badly.”
I catch sight of his eyes, and his movements still. “I want you just the same.” And I don’t just mean the sex. Sure, I want that too, but this is more. I want him badly. As my boyfriend.
He pushes inside me, his fingers toying with my clit while the other hand holds my leg up. “Fuck, you feel so damn good, Willow.”
“So do you.” I moan out long and hard once he’s all the way inside me.
His fingers dig into the heated flesh of my thigh as he pounds inside me. His other hand abandons my clit as he braces the wall beside my head. “You’re so fucking hot, Willow.”
I hold onto his shoulders, thrusting my hips against him, not wanting to be too loud just in case somebody is walking by. But I can’t help it. Brock brings this little nympho side out in me. It’s like all I crave whenever I’m around him.
“Your pussy is perfect for my dick. Fuck, so good,” he groans into the crook of my neck as he keeps pumping inside me.
I lift my other leg, locking both my ankles behind his back, and his hands move to my ass to hold me in place. “Brock, don’t stop,” I cry out.
“Never,” he whispers, and I swear it makes my heart pound harder in my chest.
I wish he really meant that. Like he never wants to stop having sex with me. And maybe that’s true. I know men who can have sex with no feelings, but I’m not looking for that. I’m not that type of lady.