Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
“You want more?” I tip my head, eyes firmly in place on her hot body. My hands ache to hold her while I watch as she looks up at me with that greedy, hungry look. I remember when she dropped to her knees in the woods, ripped open the fly to my jeans, and asked me to teach her how to give a blow job. Christ almighty, I thought I’d screw it up before it even began. Not to mention trying to go slow, the way she took to my guidance, deep throating my cock, and squeezing my thighs with the tips of her nails so hard she left marks. I should have had every ident she left on my body tattooed. The marks permanently etched on my body like she is in my memories.
“You wish.” My lips tip the slightest bit. Sienna might be pretending I don’t have an effect on her, except I can see every single thing. The way her chest rises and falls, her lips wet from licking them, and her eyes, fuck me. The hazel turns darker when she’s turned on, the same hue I’ve seen when my head is buried between her thighs or when I’m sliding in and out of her tight, wet heat.
“Damn right. Every night, every morning, and every hour.” Not my finest moment to dive deeper when she needs to head to Tully’s and I’ve got a meeting with the National Bison Committee.
“Trey.” My name on her tongue is breathless, and her eyes close for a moment while she either relishes what I’ve said or cusses my ass up and down and around the block. Her head rolls back on her shoulders, reminding me of another time when we were out near my parents’ cabin. Sienna out in the sunlight, wearing nothing, both of us bare, and her riding my cock, her pose similar to right now, and my jeans get a mighty bit more uncomfortable. I reach into the backseat, grab a clean black shirt to wear beneath my pearl snap long-sleeve top to the meeting.
“Sienna.” I gain her attention as I slide the fabric over my head and pull the hem down, putting it in place. She doesn’t respond with words, instead looks at me while putting her hand out for the abandoned pup. Somewhere along the way, she rolled the back window down. I watch as the dog nuzzles her hand. He’s no longer afraid or upset, a good deal since she will have to handle off-loading him at Tully’s.
“Trey,” she repeats my name, full of lust. A man can only take so fucking much before he’s at his breaking point. I’m slowly toeing the line. Another few minutes, and I’ll have my hands in her hair and my mouth on hers.
“You got my number, sugar. Use it.” My words knock her out of the desire-ridden stupor her whole damn body is portraying. Seeing Sienna like that, it wouldn’t have taken me much longer to march my ass to her truck, grab her by the nape of her neck, and kiss the hell out of her. In my mind, she’d wrap her legs around my waist, my other hand would go to her lush ass, and I’d fit her to my body. My hips wedged between hers so she could feel the hard-on I’m sporting, I’d flex my hips, grind myself against her core, and wouldn’t let up with either ministrations until she begged for more or got off.
“Yeah, sure,” she tosses back before hightailing it into the truck, slamming the driver’s door, and putting her car in Drive. There’s no responding to her cute little remark. One day soon, things will change. I don’t care if I have to pull a Lawson and kidnap Sienna to the cabin. I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through, and this time, I won’t stop until I have her exactly where I’ve always wanted.
My phone dings somewhere inside my truck. I should get better about putting it in the cupholder located on the center console, except I give zero fucks about the cellular device. The damn thing rings off the hook, text message ping non-freaking stop, and half the time it’s over something that can wait until I see my family for either breakfast or dinner. I climb in the seat, hit the ignition, and search for the stupid device everyone insists on having glued to their side twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The last thing I want to do is search for the damn thing, and the only reason I do is so my family will leave me the hell alone. I check inside the side door panel, but it’s not there. I look in the small cubby area that runs along most of the dash. Not there either. Another alert goes off, and my ears zero in on the area of my passenger seat.