Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Writing anything special?”
He glances up and smiles at me before he puts the pen down and pulls me into his arms. “I’m writing something I haven’t written in a long-ass time... a love song.”
“Oh, wow, this place is gorgeous!” I breathe, stepping outside where the infinity pool overlooks the beach. When Braxton said they were renting a place on the beach, I had assumed they were staying in a hotel of some sort—taking up an entire floor. I didn’t realize they were renting an entire freaking house. And not just any house, a damn mansion, complete with a private beach.
“Camden’s place is to the left, and his parents and sisters are one more over. Between the three houses and all the property they’re on, we’re completely secluded from everyone else.”
Braxton wraps his arms around me from behind, and I sigh into him, excited for the next several days. No buses or meet and greets or radio interviews. Just Braxton and me and our friends and the beach.
“Too bad we’re sharing this house with Declan and Gage,” I say, grinding my ass up against his front. “This pool would be the perfect place to go skinny-dipping in.”
Braxton groans. “I can totally make that happen.” He fists my hair, tugging my head to the side, and suckles the side of my neck. “As a matter of fact, I can make it happen right now.”
“How?” I gasp when he nips at my lobe.
“We’re alone.” He licks the curve of my ear, sending a chill down my spine. “They left as soon as we got here. A friend of ours opened a new strip club and invited the band to the opening. They’ll be gone for hours. It’s just you and me.”
“You didn’t want to go?” I ask since he implied whoever it is, is his friend as well.
“Why the hell would I want to spend the night with a bunch of strippers when I have you?”
His words cause my heart to swell and give me an idea. “Sit here.” I direct him to one of the chairs near the table on the expansive patio that houses an outdoor kitchen complete with a massive grill.
When he drops into the chair, confusion marring his features, I grab my phone and quickly hook it up to the Bluetooth speakers, then scroll through my music until I find the perfect song—“Problem” by Natalia Kills.
I click play, and as the instrumentals start, I saunter over to Braxton, stopping just out of reach. He frowns, and I smirk. And then when I begin seductively rocking my hips from side to side, his eyes go wide.
As the woman begins to sing about a couple dripping in sweat as they fuck, I slowly pull my shirt over my head, then unbutton and unzip my shorts, sliding them down my thighs. Instead of kicking my Vans off, I make it a point to bend all the way over, my breasts damn near spilling out of their confines as I unlace and tug each shoe off.
“Jesus, fuck,” Braxton hisses, grabbing his crotch and rearranging himself. “Get over here, Crazy.”
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head. “You aren’t allowed to touch the strippers,” I tease, making him groan. “Pull your dick out. I want to see how hard it is.”
He does as I say, undoing his pants and tugging them down enough to pull his dick out. It’s dark outside, but thanks to the floodlights, I’m able to see everything. His shaft is hard and veiny, and the metal piercings glint in the light. My mouth waters, remembering what he tastes like...what he feels like.
The music picks up, and I sway my hips as I glide my hands down my neck, along my collarbone, and over my breasts. I reach behind and unclip my bra, letting the material slide down my arms. With my eyes locked on Braxton, I reach up and squeeze my tits, making it a point to pinch my nipples.
“Kaylee,” Braxton growls, fisting his cock and stroking it roughly. I can tell he’s losing his patience, so I pick things up, removing my panties and then bringing my hand to my mound, teasing myself as I walk closer to him.
“I could be persuaded to give you a private lap dance”—I lean forward, making sure not to touch him—“if the price is right.”
“How much?” he asks, playing along when I step back and continue to dance slowly to the beat of the song.
“I don’t know if you can afford me.” I pinch my nipple some more, and his gaze turns molten with lust.
“I’m a rich fucking man,” he says, his voice gruff. “Name your price.”
“You,” I say, stopping in my place. “I want you.”
“Done.” He reaches out and grabs the curves of my hips, pulling me toward him to straddle his thighs. Our mouths connect in a searing-hot kiss at the same time his dick enters me. I ride him to the beat of the song, hard and rough, while he fucks my mouth the same way until we’re both coming apart in each other’s arms.