Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I hesitate, genuinely surprised.
Surprised, but not put off…
I’ve been with my share of virgins. They tend to get more attached, making the end of the relationship messier than usual, but most of my liaisons end badly, sooner or later. When it comes to women, I don’t think too far into the future. I enjoy the heat and connection for what is—pleasure, pure and simple.
There’s only one thing I’m concerned about at this point.
Well, maybe two…
I move my hand from her breast, bracing it on the mattress beside her ribs.
“How old are you, Cat Burglar?” I ask, studying her face again. She doesn’t look like a teenager, but Mark’s a douchebag, just like his father. Rodger was still fucking high school girls when he was married with a baby on the way, and I fear the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
I don’t mind an age gap, but I want a woman in my bed, not a child.
“I’m twenty-four,” she says, her chin hitching higher. “And I’m not a prude or a hopeless romantic, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just not into being the subject of small-town gossip and almost everyone I work with is a man. I know how they talk. Lobstermen are worse than desperate housewives, and I don’t want a bunch of horny, chatty dudes speculating about my sex life.”
I grunt, surprised again. “You’re a lobsterwoman?” I’ve known a few in my life, but it’s still an overwhelming male profession.
And none of the ladies I saw coming off the boats as a kid looked anything like this woman. She’s a Viking shield maiden, strong and beautiful and living proof that women can doing anything men can do, while remembering to wear sunscreen so their skin doesn’t dry into a windburned husk by their mid-twenties.
“Harvester is the gender-neutral term,” she shoots back. “And yeah, I am. Sixth generation. I have half a dozen ancestors out there at the bottom of the ocean and another couple dozen in the cemetery on the hill. Fishing is in my blood. I couldn’t leave this town if I tried.”
“And you don’t want to try,” I say, reading her correctly if the pride firming her features is anything to judge by.
“No, I don’t,” she says. Her tongue slips out to dampen her lips as she adds in a less certain voice, “But I don’t want to be a twenty-five-year-old virgin, either, and my birthday is in November, so…”
“Happy early birthday,” I murmur, my gaze flicking down to her tight nipple, my fingers aching to capture it between my fingers. But I need one more question answered first… “What’s your name?”
“Gertrude,” she says, in a tone that dares me to comment on the old-fashioned name.
I smile, liking her more with every passing minute. She’ll be the perfect distraction while I’m here, a way to blow off steam when the stress of dealing with my dysfunctional family gets to be too much.
“Well, Gertrude—”
“Call me Sully,” she says. “All my guy friends do.”
Guy friends…
I’m not sure if I’m going to be one of those, but, “I’m happy to give you a sexual education you won’t forget, Sully,” I say. “But I’m going to need something from you in exchange.”
Her brows shoot up. “Wow. You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”
I don’t dignify the question with a response. I do think a lot of myself and so will she, once I’m done making her come hard enough to banish her little sexting problem from her mind.
Aloud, I say, “I’m a private person, too, and the people of Sea Breeze haven’t earned the right to know anything about my life. If we decide to fuck, we keep it a secret. If our paths cross in town, you don’t say hello. You don’t so much as look my way. You don’t call me or text me or disturb me when I’m dealing with business during work hours. And when I tell you I want you, you come down here just like this, quickly and quietly, dressed all in black so no one sees you, and you leave before the first fisherman arrives on the docks in the morning.”
Her jaw drops as she shakes her head. “Bastard.”
“Indeed,” I agree.
“And proud of it. Awesome.” She huffs. “Well, you can fuck right off, Mr. Whatever Your Name Is. I don’t need your bullshit or your ‘education’ or your ego the size of—”
I cut her off with a kiss, crushing my lips to hers.
At first her mouth is hard and unyielding beneath mine, but when I cup her breast, dragging my thumb across her tight pink nipple, her lips part on a gasp of pleasure. A moment later, my tongue is sparring with hers, stroking and teasing, demanding her submission as I jerk her top lower, baring both her breasts.
“I need your promise, Cat Burglar,” I say, plucking both of her nipples now as I knee her thighs apart. “We pretend we don’t know each other and you come when I call, or no orgasms for you tonight.”