Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Alannah.” He panted. “Christ.”
I clenched my thighs together, forcing myself to ignore the growing ache between my thighs. My focus was on Damien, and right now, I wanted everything, all the pleasure, to be his.
“I want you to come in me mouth,” I said a little forcefully. “D’ye want that? D’ye want me to swallow every salty drop?”
He grunted, then gasped.
“Alannah. Fuck. Yessss.”
He was going to come. I knew he was.
“I’m goin’ to swallow all of you,” I purred. “I love your salty taste, I want it to coat me tongue.”
“Fuck,” Damien panted, his voice still low. “Oh, fuck!”
“Give it to me, baby,” I pressed. “Fuck me mouth so hard that I can’t see straight.”
I heard grunting, a lot of grunting, then heavy breathing followed by a long and satisfied groan. Confidence wrapped itself around me knowing my words and the visuals I planted in Damien’s head got him to the point where he lost control.
“You’re sin,” Damien rasped after a few moments. “Oh God, you’re pure fucking sin.”
“That was fun,” I said, ignoring my burning cheeks. “I’ve never done phone sex before.”
Damien recited Our Father, and it made me laugh.
“You have to say three Hail Marys or God won’t forgive you for gettin’ off at work.”
When his rumbling chuckle sounded, my lips twitched.
“I’m going to get you back for this.”
“Get me back?” I blinked. “You just had an orgasm. You’re welcome.”
Another chuckle.
“Nuh-uh, freckles, you got me worked up at work, knowing good and well I told you not to.”
I pouted. “I was just havin’ some fun.”
“I know,” Damien replied, “but I’m still getting you back.”
“I’d just prefer if you got me on me back,” I teased. “I’d learn me lesson much quicker that way … I promise.”
“Sin,” Damien hissed.
I was enjoying this far too much.
“I’m an angel, and ye’know it.”
“You look like one and act like one, but the second we’re alone, you're sin. You're my definition of trouble, freckles.”
I laughed. “You love it.”
“You bet your fine ass I do.”
I shook my head. “Go give your brother back his phone and get some work done. Slacker.”
There was a pregnant pause, then Damien’s muttered a curse.
“I have to clean this mess up, and then wash my hands … and Ryder’s phone case, or he’ll kill me.”
I laughed, and Damien growled.
“I’m so getting you back for this, freckles.”
“Snowflake,” I mused, “I look forward to it.”
I hung up on him and could imagine the look on his face when he realised it, and I laughed. I felt giddy and confident. It was worlds away from feeling scared and bitter about something that once happened. I sighed and thanked God I had a best friend who gave me a kick up the arse to see sense when most would only have given a nudge.
I quickly hurried into my parents’ house, shielding the front of Barbara’s crate from the rain as best as I could.
“Ma?” I called when I entered the house.
“I’m in the kitchen, hon.”
I placed Barbara’s crate next to the radiator so she would be warm, then shrugged out of my jacket and went into the kitchen. My ma was washing a cup out in the sink, so I walked up behind her, slipped my arms around her waist and snuggled against her. She chuckled as she grabbed a tea towel and dried her hands so she could place them over mine.
“Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” I repeated. “I’m fine, Ma. Are you okay?”
“Right now, I am,” she replied.
I released her, and when she turned to face me, I hugged her without a word.
“Bear.” She chuckled. “Honey, I’m okay.”
“But you’re not, Ma,” I said, pulling back to look at her. “You’re not okay; you have breast cancer.”
Saying that and knowing it to be true was like a kick in the stomach.
“I’m not the only woman to have breast cancer, love,” she said softly, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Millions upon millions have it.”
“Yeah, and that’s awful, but you’re me ma … I can’t help how worried I am about you.”
“I know,” she frown, lifting her hand to my cheek. “I’ll put the kettle on, and we can talk about it, okay?”
I nodded and took a seat at the kitchen table. I clasped my hands together in front of me and waited. When the tea was ready, my ma placed my cup on my coaster, then took a seat across from me. I exhaled a deep breath.
“Tell me everythin’,” I almost pleaded. “I need to hear it all.”
Ma nodded. “I’ll tell you every detail.”
I took a sip of my tea to try to settle my now upset stomach.
“I have stage one breast cancer,” Ma said, and instinctively I reached over, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “I’m going to explain this to you as best as I can. Your da has a better understandin’ of it because I don’t know what all of the big words mean.”