Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I failed them.
A few more seconds and he could have come inside me.
“Ford didn’t get to come,” I whisper, my eyes locked on Zac’s.
His dark brow hikes up his forehead. “You’ve still got some game in you, brat?”
My lips tug into a smile. “Can’t keep me down.”
Zac winks at me, warming my insides. “Good girl.” His gaze darkens. “Now crawl your way over to our friend Ford and show him what a good little cocksucker you are.”
“Crawl?” I ask, my brows furrowing.
“Under the table.” He nicks his head Ford’s way. “Go on.”
I stand on my toes and steal a kiss. For so many years, Zac was the one I was worried didn’t like me. But his brown eyes shine with such heat and admiration it nearly blows me over.
And…he loves me.
“I love you too,” I whisper against his mouth before breaking away.
My eyes lock on Ford’s. His jaw clenches as he watches me intently. Slowly, I lower to my knees as Zac bends to pull up his sweats. I wince when a pain in my ass shoots through me. Then, I start crawling across the tile floor toward the table. I push past a chair and crawl until I’m between Ford’s spread thighs. I rub my palms up his thick, muscular thighs and then set to unfastening his cargo pants. His dick is hard and springs free the moment I push his boxers down. He hisses when my hand wraps around his thickness. The tip glistens with his arousal. Leaning forward, I lick at his crown, loving the way he groans in response.
The chair behind me scrapes across the tile and Zac sits down. He stretches his bare foot forward between my thighs. I can’t help but rock my hips, seeking the friction the top of his foot provides.
Zac carries on a conversation about guns. I pick up words like H and K and Glock and hollow point. Ford grunts, but his focus is mostly on me. It makes me want to steal all his attention. I slide my lips up and down along his shaft, trying not to gag each time his tip pokes the back of my throat. When Ford utters a “fuuuuck,” I can’t help but smile around his cock. My self-assuredness is cut short when Zac moves his foot beneath me, distracting me. Soon, I’m rubbing my pussy on his foot of all things, as an orgasm teases at me.
I attempt to slide Ford’s thick cock down my throat, but the weird position under the table has me gagging hard. Hot tears leak from my lids, spilling down my cheeks, and slobber runs down my chin.
My guys make me messy.
I pull up and then try to take him again, choking. Zac’s foot is being more aggressive and I shamelessly ride it, seeking the pleasure it offers. I’m just trying to take Ford down my throat again when my orgasm hits. A loud, guttural groan rumbles through me as I come. This must set Ford off, because his oiled fingers slide into my hair, gripping me hard. His hips thrust up, pushing his cock deep into my throat. The urge to gag is strong, but then he’s coming. His heat surges into my throat and I do everything in my power not to throw up. I want to swallow him down and make this the best blow job he’s ever had. Based on the sounds of pleasure emanating from him, I’d say I am successful.
At the last second, my throat constricts, forcing him out. Salty cum shoots across my tongue as he finishes. I swallow it down. Then, I kiss the tip of his dick.
He barks out a laugh. “Did you just kiss my cock?”
I crawl out from under the table and stand, frowning at him. “So? I wanted to kiss it.”
His oily hands find my hips and he pulls me to him. I lean forward, drawn in by his hypnotic hazel eyes. He grips my throat, tugging me closer, and presses a sweet kiss to my mouth. “Lucky,” he murmurs. “You can kiss my dick any time you want.”
“For the record, you can kiss mine too, brat,” Zac utters behind me.
Naked. Messy. And with cum all over me is how Seb and Leo find me when they walk in five minutes later. Never a dull moment around here.
Milo Grieves, a muscle for hire and getaway driver for low-key jobs. We now have a name and address for the driver of the car who tried to mow down Clove, but the fucker is in the dust.
A connection of mine in intelligence—an old military buddy who now works for the CIA—got access to the cameras from the scene. And by using a still image frame and face recognition tech, he got a match. But Milo has ghosted. Trying to find this motherfucker keeps leading us to dead ends.