Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I grab my phone and both keys and walk out into the corridor. I swipe the key on her door and walk in. The room is freezing cold, and she’s sleeping like a baby.
Why is it so cold in here?
I sit on the side of the bed and watch her for a moment. Her long dark hair is splayed across her pillow, and her angelic face is clear of makeup.
So beautiful.
“Bec,” I whisper.
She keeps sleeping.
“Bec,” I say a little louder.
She jumps awake with a start and screws up her face at me. “What?” she snaps.
“I have good news.”
She rolls over and puts her back to me as she pulls the blankets up around her face. “Go back to sleep, Blake.”
“It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“I don’t know how to work the air conditioning,” she grumbles.
“Well, I’m freezing.”
“Get under the blankets,” she snaps. “You big baby.”
I get into bed beside her, and she continues to sleep with her back to me while I scroll through my phone.
I didn’t imagine this, did I?
I log back in to Foot Finder and do the math again.
Nope, I was right.
“You made forty-seven hundred dollars yesterday,” I say out loud.
She’s quiet for a moment as she registers what I said. “What?”
“On Foot Finder. Our icing pic went off.”
“What?” she scoffs as she rolls over in a rush. “What do you mean?”
I show her the dashboard screen, and she squints to read it.
“Do you need glasses?” I ask.
“One hundred percent.” She keeps squinting.
“Are you fucking blind or something?”
“Oh my god.” She sits up in a rush as she stares at my phone, and it’s then that I see she’s wearing a see-through nightdress.
It’s pale pink and sheer, and I can see the coloring of her nipples on her full breasts. My eyes drop down to linger on her cleavage and then lower to her breasts.
Thump . . . thump . . . thump . . . goes my cock.
Pain radiates through me.
“Ahh.” I wince.
This fucking piercing has got to go. I can’t even get an erection without having a near-death experience.
The pain begins to spiral up to my balls . . . Oh, fuck me dead.
“Wait a minute, is this for real?” she gasps.
“Yep.” I wince as I try to will my cock to go down. “Ahhh.” I lie back in pain. Sweat covers my brow.
“What’s wrong with you?” She frowns as her eyes stay fixed on the screen.
“Ahh, this piercing.” I lean back on the bed as my cock nearly tears in half.
“What?” She stops what she’s doing. “Is it really that bad?”
I nod.
“Can I see?”
“You don’t want to.” I shake my head. “I can’t even look at it.”
“Show me.”
I pull the tip of my cock up and over the waistband of my boxer shorts.
Her eyes widen in horror. “You pierced through the entire head?”
I nod as my face screws up.
“Oh my god, Blake.” She jumps out of bed. “You need to take that out. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“It’s supposed to be incredible during sex.” I screw up my face in pain. “Once you get through this healing part.”
It’s then that I look up, and I can see her entire body through her nightdress.
Curves and voluptuous breasts and a small patch of dark pubic hair. My loins begin to tingle.
Thump, thump, thump goes my cock.
Arousal screams through my blood, and this time, it does nearly tear the tip of my dick clean off.
“Ahhh.” I lie back.
“Why is it hurting so bad?” she cries.
“Because your nightdress is making me fucking hard.”
She glances down at herself and then sees what I see. She screams and runs into the bathroom.
I lie in pain. “Can you get me some ice, please?”
Silence.
“Bec,” I call. “I’m dying here.”
“Hang on, you idiot,” she calls. She comes out in her bathrobe and begins to riffle through her suitcase. “I cannot believe you came in here when I was practically naked and then started packing heat.” She storms back into the bathroom.
“Don’t take it personal.” I wince as I lie back. “All boobs make me hard.”
“Oh my god,” she calls. “I’m going to reception to get ice. Stay there.”
“Where else am I going to go like this?”
“To the fucking hospital.”
She marches out and slams the door as perspiration wets my skin.
I’ve got to take this out; I can’t hack it. But . . . the deep fucking I could give a woman with this. Surely I’m nearly past the worst of it.
I screw up my face in pain. I’ll give it three more days.
“Good morning, Nigella,” I say as I walk into the nurses’ station.
“Good morning, Dr. Grayson.”
Nigella is the friendliest, loveliest nurse on staff. She’s sixty in the shade and probably knows my job better than I do.
“How’s my favorite nurse today?” I ask her.
“She is well.” She smiles. “How is my favorite doctor today?”