Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I scream from the sharp, hot spikes of pleasure. From the filthy delight of his tongue inside me. The grumpy goalie is tongue-fucking me against the wall as I grab his head tighter, pull him closer, and shamelessly chase a second orgasm on his face.
It comes out of nowhere. Slamming into me. Shattering me with a white-hot blur. I cry out, panting and murmuring for a good long time. I can’t see straight or even walk but the next thing I know, Max is scooping me up and carrying me through my living room, down the hall, and finding my bedroom. Gently, he sets me on my bed, takes off my shoes and presses a tender kiss to my forehead before he whispers, “That’s how you end a first date.”
Then, he leaves.
I’m too sex-drunk to even think about what just happened. It’s not until twenty minutes later, when I’ve cleaned up and changed into sleep shorts and a cami, that I start the hunt for my wet panties.
But I can’t find them near the door. Or anywhere. Because…Max must have taken them.
21
THE CAT JUDGE
Max
Ten out of ten do not recommend driving with a boner.
Don’t ask me how I get home. Pretty sure I drive, but my mind is not on the road. At last, I peel into the parking lot of my building, turn off the engine, and march into the elevators. Swiping my card key for the penthouse, I’m damn grateful no one is in the lift.
I breathe out hard, trying to think about anything but the desire that’s got me in a chokehold. An interminable forty-five-second elevator ride later, I’m on the top floor, stalking down the hall, and unlocking the door to my home.
I’m too amped up to make it to my bedroom. The second the door clangs shut, I’m undoing the buckle of my belt and crossing the living room to the couch. I sink into the suede cushion as I unzip my pants and take out my demanding dick.
I can’t think.
I can’t focus.
I don’t even turn on a goddamn light.
I can’t do a thing but replay those twenty minutes up against the wall in Everly’s home. I grip my cock, stroking it with purpose. There are no lazy tugs here. No test strokes to see if I’m in the mood. I am nothing but in the mood right now.
As I curl a fist around my cock, I jam my other hand into my pocket and take out my prize.
My reward. But these I want to see, so I bark out, “Hey, Alexa, turn on the living room light.”
The helpful hub complies, flicking on the overhead.
Yes. Fuck yes. They’re light aqua with a delicate rose embroidery thingy all over the sheer fabric, and barely anything covering the ass. Just a fantastic thong that goes to the victor. My pulse pounds as I bring the still-wet panel to my nose. “Fuuuuuck,” I rumble, inhaling the scent of her desire.
I jerk faster, my dick throbbing ruthlessly in my hand as I close my eyes and let the flavors of her fill my mind. She smells fucking incredible—like lace and longing. Like all my dirty dreams. Like her, turned on by me.
I shuttle my fist faster, from base to tip, squeezing out a drop of pre-come at the head, using that liquid to ease the path.
My jaw ticks with all this pent-up tension as I fuck my fist and inhale Everly’s panties. I can’t stop sniffing them. Don’t want to stop inhaling her arousal as I take care of this insistent erection that’s been begging for attention for the last hour.
My thighs tighten. My head spins with lust. My bones shake. I stroke faster and faster still as a filthy, beautiful loop plays in my head.
Her fantastic fucking lips. The sweetness of her mouth, the flowery perfume on her collarbone, the way she melted into my kiss. The soft, tempting taste of her lips as I held her in my arms.
The way she fucked my hand as much as I fucked her.
I bring the damp panel of her panties even closer to my nostrils, catching another intoxicating whiff of her.
Heat roars low in my stomach. This is so fucking necessary. I can’t last another minute without this release. I’m too wound up with want. And I can’t stand how much I want her.
One more inhale. “Fuck it.”
Letting go of my dick for a second, I switch the fabric to my right hand, turning them inside out. Then I grip my dick with the cotton panel.
They’re still a little wet from her, and the idea of getting off with her arousal fries my brain. It short-circuits my entire body. It sends me spinning. I fuck my fist harder with the sheer lace and cotton, jerking and stroking till my thoughts blank out and my vision blurs.