Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“You’re going to get me off.” Her head falls back against me. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Over and over again.” I breathe in the scent of her skin, trying to fill my lungs with it. “You like when I touch you.”
“I love it,” she corrects me in a murmur. “You know just how to touch me.”
My free hand seeks out her left breast. I plump the nipple, luring it to a peak before I pinch it.
“So good,” she says before a soft moan escapes her. “Make me come.”
That’s all I want, so I touch her pussy while I whisper how fucking beautiful she is until she climaxes with a muted cry.
“I don’t care,” I growl out each word as I sheath my cock. “Don’t worry about it, Evangeline.”
She squirms on her stomach on my bed, and I swear I am this close to dropping dead from pure desire. “It’s all wet.”
“Your pussy?” I laugh, but it’s tainted with so much pent-up need it sounds sinister. “I hope to hell it’s wet after what I did to you in the tub.”
She came twice while I touched her. The first time her back was to me, but I needed more, so I spun her around, yanked her into my naked lap, and sucked her tits while she slid her pussy along my aching cock. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to shift her position slightly so I could drive my bare dick into her heat.
I still want to do that now, but I’m wrapping up because protection is paramount to her. It’s always been to me, too, but I’d give anything to forgo the condom just once with her.
“The bed is wet,” she whines. “You didn’t let me dry off. You carried me like a caveman from the tub straight here.”
“I don’t need a recap.” I crawl onto the bed and grab her hips. “Forgive me if this hurts, but I promise you’ll like it.”
She buries her cheek in the bed linens as I plunge into her snug pussy from behind with one single thrust. I feel lightheaded as my breathing stalls. It feels so good; too good.
“I love it,” she whimpers as I find my pace.
With each solid drive of my dick into her, I let out a deep-seated groan until I climax with her name falling from my lips.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Evie
I stand on a sidewalk in Queens and stare up at a quaint house painted a light shade of blue. Red wooden window boxes are overflowing with gorgeous white flowers. The grass is cut short and as green as can be. I feel like I’m staring at a quintessential single family home with a white picket fence. Granted, the fence is red, but the entire look screams happiness to me.
I glance at where Lottie is standing next to me. “Randall used to live in this house?”
She nods as a single tear falls from the corner of her eye. “It’s so cute. I can picture him as a little boy running around in the yard.”
I can’t quite form that image in my mind because I barely know Randall. “It seems like a perfect place to grow up.”
“Not as perfect as the house my parents have in California.” She laughs. “Seven bedrooms. Ten bathrooms. The kitchen alone is bigger than this entire house.”
An abundance of space doesn’t necessarily equal an abundance of love. I’m not speaking from experience. The house I grew up in had more than enough space for my family. We sat down for dinner at the kitchen table whenever we could. We had game nights in the living room, and a tire swing was hanging from an old oak tree in our backyard. Every memory I have of my parents’ home in Milford is a good one.
My gaze wanders to the left and the house next door. It’s obvious that whoever lives there doesn’t care about the house or lacks the time for upkeep. The yellow paint that covers the house is chipped. The front steps are missing bits of concrete, and the mailbox is hanging loosely by what looks like one nail.
“I think it’s abandoned,” Lottie says. “Although I’ve only been by here a handful of times. The grass just keeps getting longer. The flowers are beyond dead, and it looks like the roof may have a hole in it.”
“That’s sad,” I whisper, wondering if a family ever made sweet memories there.
She shrugs. “It’s life.”
I know she’s not trying to be callous, but all I can think of when I look at the tattered yellow house is what could have been.
“You’re probably wondering why I brought you here and how it relates to Randall’s wedding gift.”
“Are you buying him his childhood home?” I joke. “Is that what the big surprise is?”
Her hand jumps to cover her mouth as her eyes widen. “How did you know?”