Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
And Preston was an office geek.
Aaron looks like a demigod.
Feels like one, too.
He uses his core to lean up, arm banding around my waist to anchor me while his tongue drags over one nipple, then the other, as I rock back and forth against him.
The friction causes me to see stars…
Aaron has his eyes squeezed shut again.
Moans leave his throat.
Loud grunts.
Hand braced on the back of my neck, pulling me into him so he can kiss me, the moaning getting louder as he frantically fucks me, the nerves in my body tingling, even more so at the sound of the headboard banging against the wall.
Thump, thump, thump, to the rhythm of our fucking.
He’s so deep…
So deep…
So…
“Fuck,” he rasps. “I’m gonna come.”
The sensation crests all at once, his orgasm hitting at the same time as mine, and my mouth opens against his at the sheer pleasure ricocheting through my body as his writhes with spasms, his large hands gripping me.
For a second, there’s nothing but the sound of both of us breathing too hard.
The headboard stills.
The room is quiet except for the ragged drag of air into lungs.
He keeps his forehead pressed to mine, eyes closed, chest heaving. His hands don’t move right away. But then, Aaron pulls me closer, arms wrapping around me as his breathing begins to even out.
“That wasn’t…” He clears his throat. “Supposed to be like that.”
I don’t know what that means. “Supposed to be like what?”
His head shakes. “Nothing.”
FOURTEEN
AARON
I should not be thinking about the way Juliette’s tits looked while she was bouncing on top of me while I’m reading a copy of Cricket Newton’s Misfit Adventure to a group of kindergarteners, but here we are.
This is less than ideal.
Folded onto a teeny, tiny chair, I’m completely surrounded by cherubic expressions and big, curious doe eyes. Ponytails and juice-stained faces, all of them waiting for me to begin the story.
Fuck.
I glance over my shoulder and spot Juliette by the circulation counter, leaning and grinning at something an older woman is saying, a romance novel clutched in her hands that she probably plans on checking out.
Jeans. Sensible flats. Ice Wolves sweatshirt with a prim collar peeking out the crewneck.
Her hair is pulled into two buns at the top of her head—space buns, I heard her tell the librarian—and small pearl earrings are nestled in her lobes.
Now if only I could stop imagining her naked…
“You’re big,” one of the kids tells me.
“Why is your nose crooked?” another asks.
“It looks broken,” the little girl next to him announces.
“It was broken,” I correct her. “Three times.”
They gasp.
“Three times?” a boy echoes, eyes wide. “Did you get in a fight?”
“I play hockey,” I inform them proudly. “Occupational hazard.”
“What’s occupational?” the little girl asks, scratching her nose then sticking her finger in it.
I shift on the microscopic chair, and it creaks in protest, the thin aluminum legs in danger of giving out under my weight. My knees are practically in my armpits.
The kids don’t seem to give a shit, continuing to interrupt the story. They’re more interested in me than Cricket Newton.
“What happened to your ears?” someone asks in a tiny voice from the back row, and my eyes find the petite blonde with pigtails.
Involuntarily, I reach up to touch my left ear. I had no idea there was anything wrong with them. “Probably got whacked in the head with a stick too many times.”
More gasps.
Do they know nothing about hockey?
Where did Juliette find these kids?
None of them are fans of mine. None of them have a clue who I am!
She moves from the circulation desk and pulls her phone out of her back pocket, snapping several pictures.
Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, fucking Garrett Storm strolls into the room and saunters over to her. I do my best to ignore them both when a girl raises her hand.
“Yes?”
“Are you married?”
The room goes quiet.
Juliette’s head snaps up.
“Nope,” I answer evenly.
“Do you have kids?”
“Nope.”
The little girl scrunches up her nose. “Why not?”
I blink at her. “Because I like sleep. And relaxing vacations that don’t require me playing lifeguard.”
A few of them giggle. One kid leans both elbows against my knees, getting comfortable in my personal space.
I open the book again before this turns into a full-blown interrogation.
“Alright guys, focus. This story is about a bear who refuses to hibernate.”
Another scrawny arm shoots into the air.
I sigh. “Yes?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
I feel Storm’s gaze on my face and watch his brows lift.
“That is not relevant to this event,” I say calmly. “Or the story.”
The kid with the noodle arms frowns, raising her arm but not waiting to be called on. “My mom says you can’t trust a man who’s never been married by the time he’s forty.”
The librarian coughs to hide a laugh.
“I am not forty, and your mom has no idea what she’s talking about.”