Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
There was a gush of fluid I heard hit the floor, and his decadent chuckle made me smile as I looked up at him.
“Yeah, we need cleanup on aisle four over here,” he said smugly, looking quite pleased with himself.
“You’re givin’ lord-of-the-manor vibes,” I teased him, my feet now flat on the table, feeling like dessert or something he’d consumed.
“Well, yeah,” he replied, grinning like crazy, gesturing at me. “You look utterly ravished, and I’m digging it.”
I squinted up at him.
“No? Poor form?”
“Very,” I mocked him, sitting up, ready to get off the table.
“Just wait a second,” he ordered. “You’re going to step down and slip in cum, and I do not want to tell Doyle that’s the reason you have a concussion. The two of us would never live that down. Worst reason to go to the hospital ever.”
“Doubtful,” I argued as I sat up. “What about all those people who get things stuck up their ass?”
“True,” he said, walking to the kitchen and grabbing one of my two dish towels that were draped over the oven handle. He gently wiped himself off before tucking his cock back into his briefs. Flipping the towel over his shoulder, he then grabbed an entire roll of paper towels from the holder and got under my sink, into the cabinet there, and emerged with cleaning spray. “But still, not a great look for you.”
Only then, as he came striding back, open belt jingling as he walked, did I notice that his zipper was down, showing off his briefs, but other than that, he was still fully dressed.
“You didn’t even take your clothes off?” I was flabbergasted.
“Did you see me take my clothes off?” he asked playfully.
“You still have your gun holster on?”
“I love how out of it you are.”
“What the hell?” I asked as he knelt to spray the floor. “And you got cum all over one of my dish towels.”
“That’s what the washer is for, and you didn’t see me leave it in the kitchen, did you?”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Oh calm down,” he groused at me.
“What the hell was wrong with my bed?”
“I may have been a bit distraught,” he confessed, and I watched as he sprayed the floor and then dragged paper towels through the bigger mess he’d made. “That guy touched you, and spat out all that shit, and this is brand-new. Us being…us,” he said, tipping his head back to look up at me. “I felt like my heart was being squeezed right out of my chest.”
Getting off the other side of the table, it was round but not huge, I returned with the garbage can and used the pedal to open the lid for him.
“Thanks,” he said grumpily.
“My heart is all yours, Mr. Ross. No one else ever stood a chance. I was wastin’ time with others because I couldn’t have you.”
He exhaled loudly, threw away a ton of used paper towels, wads of them, too many actually, and then stood up. “You could have had me any time you wanted.”
“How would I have known that?”
“Don’t you know everything about me?”
“Apparently I didn’t, but I do now,” I murmured.
“Yes,” he said, and his eyes, as he looked at me, were warm.
I glanced away because it was a lot of honesty. “You better take me to Costco and buy me more supplies.”
“I have lots at my place, so I can give you some. Or maybe since you’re going to be spending lots of time with me, maybe don’t worry about it.”
I was quiet.
“Hey.”
When my gaze met his, I found him staring. We were both having trouble and needed a reset. We had to get back to being us.
“Can we be done with you bein’ worried and me bein’ unsure?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. Let’s be done.”
“I know you,” I said, reaching out to cup his cheek. “You know me. We’re good.”
“Yes,” he said, inhaling a breath through his nose. “I was rougher with you than you were with me.”
“You were,” I agreed, drawing him forward, the two of us separated by the stupid thirteen-gallon garbage can.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shook my head. “No, you did not. The beggin’ and whinin’ should have clued you in.”
“Was that you?”
“Hard to have been anyone else.”
He grunted.
“So, then, yes, I would very much like to ride you in my bed next time.”
“Or my bed,” he countered. “I mean, either or.”
“Yes. Either or.”
And now he was looking at me and I was looking right back.
“Would it be all right if we went to bed now and lied down?” he asked softly, stepping around the can to wrap me in his arms. “I would like to kiss you.”
“I would like that,” I told him. “And maybe you could drop the towel in the laundry basket on the way.”
“Yeah, good call.”
TEN
There was some kissing, more snuggling, and very soon after, napping. When we woke up, it was a little after eight thirty and we had to get moving if we were going to stop and get food before showing up at the party.