Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Her eyes blaze with fury, making my dick harder.
“Do you…ever think about her? Like, finding her?”
“Never,” I say without pause.
“You are a better person than me, Tate Deveraux.” She shakes her head and stabs at her food. “I would have shown up at her house and fucked her up. Taken a pair of scissors to her pretty head of hair.”
“Why do you think she was pretty?”
She stops and glares at me for a second before responding. “Well, I assumed…she had you, so she had to be something special.” She pauses, then asks. “Was she?”
This time, it’s my turn to roll my shoulders. “She was. Long blonde hair. Skinny. Well dressed and put together. But it wasn’t the kind of pretty that made a man’s heart stop. She didn’t cause a knot in my chest. An ache to own and devour. Dominate. She was just…average.”
Her lips part on a silent exhale. A blush cascades across her cheeks. I want to drag my tongue along her heated skin and whisper that she’s made my heart ache with things I’ve never wanted before.
She clears her throat, her voice a bit hoarse. “Well, she sounds horrible. Hopefully, karma got to her, and she’s living in a trailer park with a billion kids, all by different baby daddies, with a godawful dye job.”
She’s avoiding my comment, which is probably for the best. “She got the life she wanted.” Mindy’s eyes shade over with a look of guilt. She took my comment the wrong way, and it pisses me off. The last thing I need is for her to pity me. Dropping my fork, I lean back in my chair. “Wipe that look off your face, babe.”
“What look?” She tries to mask her sad puppy eyes with a mouthful of noodles.
“Feeling sorry for me. I’m a big boy. I don’t need to be pitied.”
She shrugs, shoving another bite into her mouth. “Well, you lost me at the big boy comment, but it wasn’t a pity look. It was indifference.”
“And if I pull you over the table and spank that pretty ass of yours for lying, are you still going to be indifferent?” Her eyes flash with something that does not look like indifference. Lust, excitement, hunger. And that hunger ain’t for my fucking pasta.
Tension crackles across the table. She drops her fork and swipes her tongue along her bottom lip. “Try it, and I’ll throat punch you.”
“You’d have to have the chance to do that first.” Her eyes turn wild. Fuck, I’m two seconds away from throwing this table out of our way, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and claiming those sweet lips. “What’s it gonna be, babe?”
“I think…” She starts off slowly, her tone dripping with arousal. “You have yourself a—”
She doesn’t get the last of that sentence out before I thrust the table sideways. It crashes against the counter as I snag her out of her chair. Her squeal goes straight to my dick as I capture her in my arms.
“Shit!” Her laughter is my drug. Each hit brings me higher and higher. Her chest heaves as I carry her over to the couch. “It’s not even normal to move that fast,” she breathes.
“I’m not normal.” I sit on the couch and flip her onto her belly. My hand caresses her plump ass, and I slowly pull down her yoga pants.
“Don’t you even think about it—fuck!”
The first swipe is like heaven. The way her body reacts to my touch is thrilling. I smack her again.
“You’re so dead for this,” she threatens, but I’m not worried. The huskiness in her voice tells me otherwise.
“Tell me how dead I am.” I slap her again. The redness of her cheek ignites a dominant need inside me. I smooth over my mark and slap her again.
“So…fucking…dead,” she moans, pressing her pelvis into my thigh. I slap her quickly three times, then tug her yoga pants down farther and slide two fingers into her wet pussy.
“Yeah, I bet I am. And how dead would I be if I stopped doing this?” I stroke her.
“Dead, so dead, keep doing that,” she pants, her sex gripping my fingers. She’s already close to orgasm.
“You always this wet when you’re angry?”
“You should know. You’re the only one who makes me this mad.”
My chest tightens. This girl. She’s so afraid to admit the truth. That this pussy is made for me. That all this wetness is for me. Fuck, I feel like I’m going to combust. This isn’t enough. I pull my fingers out and flip her, throwing her back against the couch. Dropping between her quivering thighs, I bury my face in her cunt, licking her clit, sucking it into my mouth as I thrust my fingers back inside her. Her hands disappear into my hair, and she wastes no time riding my mouth. I grunt in approval, eating at her like a starved man. I’m teetering on the edge, my control slipping. I suck her into my mouth, savagely filling her. I pump in a third finger, and her hips jolt off the couch. I hold her in place, making her take my tongue and fingers.