Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Get out,” she demands with a shaky voice, clutching the fabric like it could possibly protect her from me.
“You are in my apartment, using my bathroom, rummaging through my stuff. You don’t tell me to get out.”
“I was just looking for a hairbrush.” The lie rolls off her tongue so smoothly that I almost believe it. Her wet hair is plastered against her skin in silky waves that look a few shades darker now.
Forcing a smile on my lips, I step farther into the bathroom. The closer I get, the more her bottom lip quivers. The grip on the towel tightens to the point of her knuckles turning white. Her breathing quickens, but when I’m close enough to smell the citrusy scent of my soap on her skin, she holds her breath altogether.
The tips of my boots are less than an inch away from her toes. Her ass is pressed against the sink when I lean into her, eating up all the space between us until my fully clothed body is flush against her wet naked one. She tilts up her head, and I lower mine. Our faces are so close, the tip of my nose almost touching hers. I can see every freckle on her nose, every speck in her emerald green eyes, and every long dark lash framing them.
My cock is standing at full attention now, and I make certain to press my hard length against her softness while I reach past her. Lifting my arm slowly, I grab the brush sitting at the top of the cabinet.
Her heart beats so rapidly, I can hear it, and if her hand wasn’t between us, I could probably feel it against my chest as well. A shiver runs through her body, and I wonder if it’s only because she is cold and scared.
Straightening myself up, I take a small step backward and hold the brush out to her. For a few seconds, she simply stares at it like it’s a foreign object she’s never seen before.
“Thanks,” she whispers a moment later, reaching for the brush. “I-I don’t have any clean clothes. Do you mind if I wash these in the sink?”
“I’ll have some clothes delivered for you in the meantime…” I trail my eyes down her body, her exposed hips and thighs, imagining holding her down while fucking her in long deep thrusts. Fuck, I need to jerk off.
“I don’t need much. An old shirt would be great. Or maybe you have a lost and found box or something like that?”
“Or maybe you sleep naked?” I say before I can stop myself.
“I’d rather sleep naked than get back into those filthy clothes,” she quips without missing a beat.
“Then you’ll sleep naked.”
Confusion flashes over her tired eyes. She isn’t sure if I’m joking or not. She’s about to find out I’m dead serious.
“Come with me. Walk ahead.” I point toward the hallway but leave my eyes on her. A hue of red spreads over her cheeks as she readjusts the towel to wrap around her body, giving me another glimpse of her tits before being covered once more.
She walks ahead of me back to the kitchen. I can’t take my eyes off her ass swaying, especially knowing she is bare under the fluffy fabric. I could take her so easily; one tug of the towel, and she’d be naked, ready to take my cock.
I know I’m only attracted to her because I haven’t been with anyone in so long. Still, the thought that she has any kind of hold on me has my stomach in knots.
“Wait,” I order when we get to the kitchen. Grabbing a granola bar from the cabinet, I throw it in her direction, almost wishing she wouldn’t catch it. To my disappointment, she does, grabbing onto the bar like it’s some priceless artifact. “That’s your dinner, so eat up.”
She doesn’t waste any time, ripping the paper open and shoving the granola into her mouth as if she is worried I’ll take it away from her.
Pointing at my bedroom, I motion for her to go in, and she obeys quickly. Her cheeks are still full of food when I take one of my shirts from my dresser and hand it to her.
She takes it, holding it in one hand while awkwardly holding that now-empty wrapper in the other. Her eyes scan the room, I’m assuming for a trashcan. Instead of letting her throw it away herself, I snatch it from her fingers and growl, “Put the shirt on.”
“I thought—”
“I changed my mind.” Letting her sleep naked is a terrible idea. Not that I care about her comfort, but I don’t want to go to bed with blue balls, either.
Turning my back to her, I give her a few seconds of privacy while I throw one of my pillows on the floor and take the rope from my closet.