Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Not if I’m not wearing any,” I tell her, “which I’m not, so it would leave me naked.”
“That would be a you problem”—she sits down in her lace thong—“and not a me problem.” She winks at me, “Does your partner apologize?” She picks up her board.
“Nope, I don’t think she knows how to say she’s sorry.”
“Um,” she snaps, “I said I was sorry the last time.” I raise my eyebrows. “In the parking lot, I said I was sorry I went to meet him.”
“I seem to remember it differently.” Her eyes are on me. “It was when we got home, after I fucked it out of you.” I point at her, and she just glares at me. “Let’s call that a draw.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “How often would your partner like to have sex?”
“The only answer is all day, every day.” I lean my head to the side. “So twenty-four seven.”
“The only answer, of course,” she mocks me. “Does your partner like using sex toys, and if so, which one is their favorite?” She tilts her head to the side. “Looks like someone is going to be naked in about two minutes.”
“Yeah.” I look at her. “Is that someone going to be you?
“What’s your answer?” I ask, and she turns her whiteboard over, and I read what she wrote, cock ring. I laugh. “When have I ever mentioned wanting to use a cock ring?”
“It’s the only thing I could think of.” She throws her hands up in the air. “It’s not like you would use a silicone vagina.” She folds her arms over her chest, pushing her naked tits in the air. “Anyway, what did you write?” she asks. “Whatever it is, you’re wrong.”
“I wrote the rabbit vibrator.” I turn my board around to show her.
“Wrong,” she says proudly, and I smirk. “It’s my rose toy vibrator.”
“Really?” I ask. “Explain this vibrator to me. Because I still have a coupon that I need to redeem.”
“There is a little piece that you put inside me,” she explains, “and then the rose part sucks on my clit.”
“It’s basically the same thing,” I huff.
“But it’s not,” she tells me. “Take off the pants, big man.” I toss the board to the side, stand and unbutton my pants, my cock springing free once I push them off my hips.
“Happy?” I ask. “Now, take off that thong, baby.”
“Fine.” She gets up and shimmies her way out of them as she tosses them to the side.
“Well, I think we both won,” I tease, and she shakes her head. “We’re both naked.”
“There is one more question.” She stands in front of me naked. “What is your partner’s favorite sex position?” she asks, and I clap my hands together. “Yours is with my legs over your shoulders.”
“Wrong.” I storm toward her. “It’s going to be this one right here.” I grab her around her waist and lift her off the floor. “I like any position as long as my cock is inside you.”
Twenty-Five
Zoey
Me: I hope you are having a great day.
I press send on the text, smiling to myself. I always send him a text in the morning when I get to my desk, telling him to have the best day, like we didn’t arrive in the car with each other. Then I always surprise him by having lunch delivered to him, knowing he’s got a busy day ahead of him. Which always earns me a text telling me I’m the best in the world.
Then I always send him a midday text when I think of him or look over and catch a glimpse of him.
Nash: It’ll be better when I get to kiss your face, among other places.
Me: See you soon, then.
I open the phone app and go to my favorites, going down the list to my mother, pressing her name, and then putting it to my ear.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite daughter,” she answers, laughing, making me laugh.
“I’m your only daughter,” I point out. “You should have answered ‘if it isn’t my favorite child.’ That would have been better.”
“I’ll know for next time. How are you doing?”
“I’m good.” I look around the office and see Nash is sitting in the conference room on a video call with his brother. “I’m calling because I’ll be in New York next week,” I tell her of the plans I made less than five minutes ago when one of my clients reached out to me. “Are you going to be home?”
“I will be.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “We should do a dinner.”
“I’ll probably be home for a week, so we can do all the dinners.”
“So living in LA is agreeing with you?” she asks, and I take a deep inhale.
“So far, so good,” I answer her honestly.
“What’s that sigh about?” Of course she picked up on that.