Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
She moans, and I sink my tongue through the opening that creates, touching the tip of hers and swirling. She tilts her head in my hand, desperate to get deeper so she can taste more, and I follow her lead.
She tastes like sweet fruit and intrigue—like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Carefully, I pull back enough to disengage, running my lips along the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, and down her neck until stopping at her collarbone. Her body responds, arching into mine, while her hands grip at the skin of my back.
“Feel good?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Good. I want to make it feel even better.”
Her head jerks. “Please. Yes. Please.”
Hearing Lexi Winslow beg me for more wasn’t on my summer bingo card—hell, I didn’t even think it was on a list of remote possibilities. But I swear, at the sound of it, I’d do anything to keep it.
I’d be morally gray, desperately corrupt, unfair, and unjust. I would walk a lava-covered volcano, fight a dragon, sell my soul to an underground world—as long as it ended in hearing her say please again.
Climbing off her, I undo the button on her jeans and lower the zipper, grabbing them at the waistband and pulling them down as gently as I can manage. She lifts her ass for me to make it easier, and a smile paints itself across my face. Her plain black cotton bikini underwear are undeniably sexy but appropriately practical. They’re so perfectly Lexi.
I wouldn’t expect her to wear thongs or synthetics or bother with unnecessary laces. I’m unbelievably interested to see if any of that changes the more we’re together, but my guess is that it won’t. And for some reason, that makes me smile.
I’ve seen the lingerie of many a desperate woman—none of it changed what lay underneath.
Shifting her slightly, I lie down on the couch next to her, my back to the upright cushions and her spread-out body near the edge. She watches carefully as I run my hand down her stomach, over the white of her T-shirt, around the bikini line of her panties, and then underneath, to the hot, wet apex of her center.
As I make contact, her head rolls back, and a moan falls from her lips involuntarily. It might be the first thing on scientific record that Lexi Winslow has done without meaning to.
“Yeah,” I say softly, encouragement rolling off me into the soft shell of her ear. “Just relax and feel me.”
Swirling moisture from her center to her clit, I stroke softly at the sensitive bud until her back arches again. I put my lips to her neck and suck gently, using my knuckle to tease at her entrance. She gasps, and I straighten my finger, sinking it to the base in one smooth motion, turning my hand so I can swipe softly at her G-spot.
Her hips jerk up and down restlessly, so I add another finger, beckoning her orgasm with a curl of my fingers over and over again at a steady pace.
“Are you going to come for me, Lexi?”
She tries to speak, but her words are stilted and awkward. The usual connection to her brain is temporarily unavailable due to a redirection of blood flow.
“Come on. I want to feel you all over my fingers. I want it to drip down my hand.”
“Oh my G-od,” she manages through a whisper, her breathing heavy. Her eyes flutter open and closed as she fights the lull of my fingers on her G-spot. I don’t want to be fought, so I pull my fingers out quickly and swirl at her clit before diving back inside.
Her back bows and her breathing stops and her eyes fall closed with the weight of her head on my arm.
She sounds like sweet victory and no turning back.
I may be a thorn in her side, but I also come bearing orgasms. I’d like to see her avoid me now.
Sunday, June 1st
Lexi
The menu for Fortress, my stepdad’s newest food endeavor, is a clunky, huge thing I can barely hold in front of my face. Normally, it’d be something I might complain about, but today, I’m thankful for the shield.
My mom sits across from me in a pair of tan linen pants and a white button-down shirt, her hair pulled up in a half-up, half-down do made fancier by a twist and braid of the hair by her face. I’ve always thought she’s one of the most naturally beautiful women I’ve ever seen, but today, she looks particularly content.
And I know, deep down, it’s because I reached out and asked her to meet me for lunch. She already had plans with Georgia and her girls, but not wanting to miss the opportunity for some face time with her daughter, she invited me to join. She never pushes to see me or makes me feel bad for not getting together more, which I appreciate more than I can say. But seeing her heart in her eyes today, I know I need to make a bigger effort.