Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I say nervously, which is the silliest thing since I just spent the last two hours, maybe even three, learning every single inch of his body. I know there isn’t one place on my body he hasn’t kissed, licked, bit, or sucked. I let the white towel fall from my body and put the black T-shirt on.
It’s huge on me and it’s in the middle of my thighs. “Fuck.” I look over at him and Stefano just comes to me. One of his hands holds my hip while the other comes up so his thumb can rub my cheek. “You’re so fucking sexy in my clothes.” His voice is low. “Every single time you take my breath away, but in my clothes.” He leans in and softly kisses my lips. “It’s even hotter than you naked.”
I smile shyly. “Are you sure about that?” We both laugh together.
“Okay, let me get you downstairs so I can get you fed and then have my way with you on the counter while you wear my shirt.” He slips his hand in mine as he pulls me to the kitchen.
“I’m pretty sure we can make it back to the bedroom,” I joke and he stops mid step and turns to me.
“My cock is ready to go now.” He points down at said cock. “I’m meeting him halfway.”
“Fine,” I concede, like I’m not the one who is going to benefit from him taking me on the counter.
We walk down to the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?” He looks over at me as he lets go of my hand and pulls open the fridge. “I’ve got a lot of stuff for breakfast,” he mentions and I lean on the counter.
“Did you?” I fold my arms over my chest, trying not to laugh.
“Well, I was hopeful I could charm you into coming back home with me,” he confesses, and I roll my eyes. “My mother said you liked me enough to sleep with me once, chances are you would sleep with me again.”
“You told your mother we were going to sleep together?” I screech.
“I don’t really tend to talk to my mother about things I do with my dick.” He shakes his head laughing. “But my mother tends to talk to me about what she thinks I should do with my dick.”
“Oh my God,” I say, putting my hands on my face, feeling the heat rise. “How the hell am I supposed to face her the next time I see her?”
“She knows we’ve had sex before,” he reminds me, grabbing the fruit out of the fridge. “We have a daughter.”
“I know but”—I put my hands on my head—“you were literally with someone a month ago.”
He stops moving. “With someone is a big word.”
I glare at him. “Did you or did you not bring her to a family wedding?”
“Yes,” he admits, and he’s about to say something else when I hold my hand up to stop him from talking.
“There is nothing that you can even say after that, so my advice is to just stop talking.” My glare does not leave my face.
“Duly noted,” he says. “I’ll also note that it took me less than two point three seconds to walk away from her.” I roll my eyes. “You can roll your eyes all you want, but it’s the truth. The minute I found you and Avery, it was over.”
“Whatever,” I mumble, not wanting to ever have this conversation because it’s super awkward, and the last thing I want to sound like is that I’m needy. I walk over to the drawer to grab a knife to start cutting the fruit.
“You can ‘whatever’ all you want, baby,” he says softly and I look over at him. He drops what is in his hands before coming over and standing behind me. His hands go to my hips, and he squeezes them. “It’s you.” He bends and whispers in my ear, “It’s always going to be you.” I turn my face, our eyes locking, my mouth going dry, my hands trembling just a bit as my heart races in my chest. I reach up with one hand to cup his cheek. “It will always be you.” He leans in to kiss my lips softly. “Avery and you”—his eyes stare into mine—“will always be my top priority.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat and all I can say is one word in a whisper, “Okay.” He smiles at me and then walks back to the fridge.
“So what do you think about omelets?” he asks me and I just nod my head.
“What can I do to help?” I reply to him, and he hands me the container of mushrooms.
“How does ham, onion, and mushrooms sound?” He takes out the clear deli meat bag and grabs a white onion. He points at the container in my hand.