Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“I’m so close!” she practically screamed out loud. The only reason she couldn’t be heard outside the room was because she’d planted her face into the fabric as she fell apart screaming my name.
“Mace? Hello? Are you in there, or are we going to stand outside all night?” Fuck, lost in the moment. And I as just getting to the good part of that night where I spread the cheeks of her ass, seeing her heat, remembering what it felt like to sink my cock inside her, wondering if she still likes her ass played with.
“Fuck, sorry, siren. We’re not going to stand out here all night.” We are so close, there’s barely an inch between our bodies. My cock is pulsing with need. The scent of coconut, fresh flowers, and desire permeates the space between us, not giving me an ounce of reprieve when it comes to wanting Tyra any way I can have her. Around me, beneath me, beside me, on top of me. There’s a hunger so deeply seated that I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.
“Okay, well, then let’s go to your place.” Her hand touches my chest right above my heart. Mine covers hers, holds Tyra captive, while my other slides around, grasping her hip, fingers grazing the top of that luscious fucking ass, and judging with how she just took a deep breath, rubbing her tits against my hand and chest, she feels it, too.
“Yeah, I’m thinking that’s a good idea right about now.” I dip down, thighs pushing between her legs. My lips graze hers lightly, and when she doesn’t move away, I press my luck, kissing her one last time, pulling her closer. I’d take this a fuck of a lot further if we were in my apartment. We’re not, though, and damn if we don’t have a lot to talk about before she lets me inside that sweet body of hers.
ELEVEN
Tyra
I, Tyra Diana Ayala, am a glutton for punishment. When Mace went quiet, clenching his jaw, his eyes lowering, desire written all over his face, I knew what he was remembering. Maybe not the exact memory or fantasy but enough to know that it was about him and me together. God, do I miss those days before life went to hell in a hand basket. And while I so badly want to fall into his arms and bed, we have to talk.
“Jesus, Mace, I hope you plan on getting some furniture for your apartment.” He opens the door, flipping a switch next to it. The set-up is much like my own place, only smaller and very, very sparse. One couch, a television on a stand in the corner, no coffee table or side table. The only other furniture is barstools beneath the counter. The breakfast nook doesn’t even have a table and chairs.
“It’s on the list, but I’m hoping not to be here very long.” I take a few steps inside his apartment and look behind me. Mace is taking off his suit jacket and lays over the arm of the couch. He’s a sight to behold, cufflinks gone, buttons undone as he folds the sleeves of his dress shirt up, showing off his muscles and ink.
“That’s probably a good thing. You didn’t take any of the furniture from the old house?” I refused to do anything with that house. It wasn’t a home, and when Mace said he was hiring an interior designer, I’d let him. The only thing I put my foot down on was Von’s room and the master bedroom.
“The bedroom stuff. Von’s set is at my parents’ right now. The buyers wanted the furniture, so I sold it with the house.” It’s then I realize he’s in a one-bedroom, unlike my two-bedroom apartment. “He’s there or with you more, so I figure downsizing wouldn’t be a bad idea, and it was time I ate some humble fucking pie.” I don’t know what to do with his admission, so I choose not to respond. If this were my place, I’d offer him a drink, take my shoes off, sit down on the couch, pull the blanket around me, and enjoy the quietness surrounding me.
“It’s a hell of a lot easier to clean, and you don’t have to yell clear across the other side in order to get someone’s attention, at least,” I reply finally as I walk towards the French doors that I know lead out to a small back porch. Mace has a view of the pond. It’s lit up, the fountain making it all the more beautiful with the sun mostly down, the sky orange and purple, getting lost in its richness.
“I made a lot of mistakes the past year and a half. I have a lot to atone for. How you’ve managed to be cordial with me when I’ve been a dick, not seeing the fault before my own eyes, I’ll never know, and I’ll never be able to thank you for being such an amazing mom and friend when I didn’t deserve it.” He comes up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. His warmth radiates through my body. I’m unsure why it is that men love to have the air conditioner set at Antarctica level, and even though I shouldn’t, I press back into his warmth.