Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I turn in the mirror before going back to my bathroom and touching up my makeup, then I text him.
Me:
Should I bring my own condoms or do you have any?
He doesn’t answer me, instead the phone rings in my hand and I answer it, “Good day, sir.” I walk to the bedside table and take out the condoms, just in case.
“Hey,” his voice is soft and breathy, “I don’t have condoms.”
“Wow,” I say, not shocked, as I tuck the box in my purse. “I’m going to need you to up your game. I’m literally bringing everything to this relationship.” I smile only when I hear him chuckle.
“Are you on your way?” he asks me.
“No.” I walk out of my door. “You said one hour, and I’m obviously going to be fashionably late,” I tell him, getting into the car. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Okay.” He just gives in.
“Wow, you just giving in like that. You don’t even care,” I goad, and he laughs.
“Well, I want you to come over, but if you have to get ready, I’m not going to rush you.”
“You’re annoying,” I state. “Good day, sir.” I hang up. “I’ll show you,” I tell the phone on the passenger side. I stop at the grocery store picking up strawberries and some chocolate syrup. I pass on the caramel because no one needs to be that sticky.
I pull into his driveway, taking the bag off the passenger seat then I walk over to his door and ring the doorbell.
The door opens and his face goes from a smile to heated all in the blink of an eye. “Hi,” I say, holding up the bag in my hand, “I brought dessert.”
“What are you wearing?” He snatches my hand and drags me in, slamming the door behind me. “Where are your pants?”
“It’s called a sweater dress, Zane,” I explain as he presses my back to the door. “Oof,” I say when he puts both of his hands by my head at the door. “If you think this is good, wait until you see what I have under this sweater dress.”
His mouth crashes onto mine, and my purse and the bag with the strawberries fall to the floor as my hand goes into his hair. His hands go under my arms as I wrap my legs around his waist, and I lose myself into the kiss. Fuck, this man can kiss. My lips tingle from the roughness of his beard, and I can’t wait to feel it in other places. He lets go of my lips, but still pins me to the door, looking into my eyes with a heated expression. “Have I ever told you that you are a good kisser?” I brush the side of his hair with my nails. “I mean, I also help you be a good kisser because you do need to have a good partner. So I’m thinking together we make a pretty good team.”
He smiles as he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in my neck. “It’s all you, baby,” he counters, and I smile.
“Damn right,” I gloat, his chest on mine as he laughs. “Now are you going to feed me or fuck me and then feed me?”
“Feed you first,” he replies, putting me down on my feet, “but you’re definitely keeping those shoes on.”
“Good to know you are a fan of the shoes,” I mention as he bends to grab the bag.
“Did you really go out in public like that?” I cock my hip.
“I’m going to give you a minute to rephrase that sentence.”
“I don’t need a minute. Did you go out in public like that?” His finger comes up and then goes down. “Dressed like sex on a stick.”
“Don’t try to lure me with compliments.” I look at him. “I had to bring the condoms.” I pick up my purse. “So I decided to pick up dessert too.” I fold my arms under my tits, pushing them up. “You’re welcome.”
He slides his hand into mine. “I was planning on eating you for dessert.” He winks at me and my mouth goes dry. “You’re welcome.”
“No,” I shake my head, “you can’t turn my words against me.”
“Fine,” he says, bending and kissing my neck softly. “Come, let’s eat.”
“And here I was going to drop to my knees and eat your cock,” I deadpan, and I can see the way his cock twitches in his blue pants. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” I get on my tippy-toes to kiss his neck. “I’m very curious as to what you cooked in an hour,” I wonder as I walk down the hall and into the kitchen and stop. The lights are off and all around the room illuminating the space are soft candles, some in vases filled with water and floating. There are five vases of red roses, two vases of white roses, one of pink, and another one of peach. Every inch of his counter is filled with roses. “Okay, I didn’t really cook, but I did order food.”