Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
But I’d decided a while ago that I wasn’t that guy anymore. After twelve years of trying to fuck her out of my head, I realized that she wasn’t going anywhere, and no matter how many women fell into my bed, I was never going to fuck her out of my heart.
Her.
Indigo.
Her being gone didn’t make me want to fuck a hundred women to get over her anymore.
Her being gone didn’t make me want to share my bed with faceless women, night after night.
Her being gone made me mad.
Twelve years.
Twelve fucking years and not a fucking word.
I was an asshole. It was my fault she left. I broke her. I broke us. I never denied it. But she . . . she was the one who turned and ran.
I clenched my teeth.
She was the one who ended us.
The brunette rubbed herself with my hand and I swear to God there was only so much restraint a man could show when a hot babe was rubbing her pussy all over him. Maybe I’d been a bit hasty in saying I wasn’t interested. Maybe I was—
Oh God.
Juicy lips closed over the head of my cock while a wet, talented tongue sucked me into the deep cavern of her throat. Yep, no point in fighting it. No fucking point at all.
I let out a deep groan as her mouth began the slow glide down the length of me, her tongue pulling me deeper into her throat. Fuck. She had one hand curled around the base of my cock and it hit her chin as she moved up and down, up and down, slowly gaining more momentum as she expertly sucked me like a goddamn lollipop …
I gave into the pleasure stirring in my balls and sank back into the pillows. She was good. Damn good. And the little moans she made as she licked and sucked me put me on a train straight to Pleasureville.
My orgasm was rapid and it surged through me, cartwheeling across my brain. I thrust my head back into the pillow and shot into the back of her mouth. She whimpered but didn’t stop sucking as I continued to pump more and more down her throat. She lapped it up, milking me with her lips and tongue, and moaning as she emptied me of every last drop.
When she was sure I was done, she looked up and greedily licked her lips. “I love how you taste, Cade.”
My post-orgasm indifference was already kicking in and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and lies. Pulling on my jeans I raised an eyebrow at her. Ergo, if a girl tells you she loves the taste of your cum, chances are she is lying.
I hoped she didn’t plan on hanging around. I wasn’t into small talk.
But it wasn’t small talk she was after.
She pushed me back down on to the bed and ran her palms across my abs and up my chest. “You’re so big,” she breathed. “All the girls think you’re beautiful.” Her fingertips whispered across my chest to my shoulders. “So big and strong.” She slid her legs on either side of my hips and began rubbing herself against me. “They all want to fuck you,” she moaned, getting off on the zipper bulge of my jeans. For me, nothing was going on behind it. I was done. But I was slightly intrigued by her performance. She leaned down and moaned in my ear. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”
When she tried kissing me, I turned my head.
I didn’t kiss. I fucked. And I fucked well.
“I want you to make me come,” she whispered in my ear as she ground her pussy against me. “And then I promise I will make you say my name—over and over again.”
That wasn’t going to happen.
I didn’t know her name.
And I didn’t want to.
A sudden pounding on the door almost sent her flying off the bed. The door flung open, and Caleb, my younger brother, filled the doorway. He didn’t flinch at the sight of a near-naked girl sprawled on my bed.
“You’ve gotta get out of here, brother,” he panted. Going by the alarm in his voice and the commotion out in the clubroom, something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Over the muffled music I heard shouting in the bar. I flew off the bed and quickly followed Caleb out of the room and down the corridor toward the noise.
It took me all of a nanosecond to work out something had happened to one of my MC brothers. Jackie Parrish—our Vice President—was lying on the floor, his eyes closed, a look of pain etched on his face. His wife, Lady, was kneeling over him, crying, yelling, and swearing.
“What happened?” I asked, dropping to my knees next to Jackie. I turned to no one in particular and yelled, “Turn the goddamn music down!”