Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
I got to use my new card thingy to release me from the parking fees.
And the second-best part of my day occurred.
I followed Knox home.
So I could get to the best part of my day.
Being home with my (two) guys.
Knox had just finished lavishing pretty much every inch of my body with attention.
It was time to return the favor.
He agreed, since he let me roll him, and then with fingers, lips, tongue, even my nose, I covered every inch of him, from his delicious mouth to his strong jaw, his neck, his throat, his collarbone, his pecs, nipples (you get me).
I was dipping into the dents in his abs when he put his hands under my arms and dragged me up his body while he sat up.
I straddled him.
He reached between us to position his cock.
I settled down so he could fill me.
He filled me.
Perfect.
“This getting to know each other better thing is great,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he agreed, gliding his hands up my back.
I started moving.
We started kissing.
Outside, the waves lapped against the shore.
I had no idea why I fought this vacation with my man.
It was totally worth Raye turning Jacques bougie.
It was worth everything.
Two weeks later…
We all stood on the sidewalk opposite what was left of Head Southwest.
By “we,” I meant everyone.
The Avenging Angels.
The Hottie Squad.
All the Rock Chicks.
Most of the Hot Bunch.
Tito. Tex. Nancy. Dream. Byron. Mom. Dad. Titus. Alexis. Bill. Zach. Linda. Martha. (Okay, most everyone from Oasis Square.) Jinx, her man Noah. Duane and all our girls from the diner. The Kevster.
We could just say, Annette and The Kevster put on one helluva opening.
Just sayin’: Ritz crackers and squirtable cheese.
And that was even before the place was firebombed.
The firemen were rolling up their hoses.
Water was dripping down on the ashen remains of tie-dyed tees, peace sign blankets, and elaborate bongs.
The Chief of Police was also there, glowering at our group.
No one said anything.
When the first fire truck started to roll away, a voice sounded.
“Um…I think I have some explaining to do.”
We all turned in unison to that person.
But even before I did, I realized the Angels’ hiatus was over.
And boy…
I was not wrong.
The End