Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 941(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“You can touch me,” Roman told her quietly.
“Oh.”
Roman cleared his throat. “Just check with me first, but I . . . I enjoy your touch.”
“It would be easier if you came up here and laid your head in her lap, then she won’t have to reach for you,” Salem told him.
“You have the best ideas, Sir,” she told him, leaning back to smile up at him.
“Thank you, Pet. I try.” He bent and lightly kissed her.
Oh, that was so . . . so nice.
Nice didn’t really cut it but she couldn’t think of how else to explain it.
Probably because her mind was still filled with mush from the multiple orgasms she’d just had.
Every woman should have multiple orgasms. They were a glorious, glorious thing.
Roman climbed onto the sofa, with his legs resting over the arm and placed his head on her lap.
“This all right?” he asked as the sofa let out a bit of a protest.
“Are you uncomfortable?” This sofa wasn’t really made for four people. Especially when one of them was a six foot three Russian who had to weigh over two hundred pounds.
“No. I’m not.”
She ran her fingers through Roman’s hair, sighing with pleasure. This is what she’d needed even if she hadn’t realized it.
To touch all of them. Be surrounded by them.
“Better, Pet?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s perfect.”
35
Tamsyn was kind of bored.
It was Friday afternoon and Roman had worked from home for the most of the day, while she’d puttered around doing some cleaning. But not much.
And now she was out of things to do.
Roman had rushed out of here about forty minutes ago, saying that he was late for a meeting he’d forgotten about.
And, yeah, she was stuck here with nothing to do.
Although she knew what she should do . . . but she just didn’t want to spy on them anymore. She didn’t want to do anything that asshole wanted of her.
But she had no idea how to protect them and herself. She had a bad feeling that she could only do one of those things. And if it came down to it, she knew just who she was going to sacrifice.
“Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?”
A female voice made her jump and she glanced over at the doorway. She was lying on the sofa in the living room. How long had she been here? Who was that?
She sat up, just as an older woman with salt and pepper hair and hazel-colored eyes walked into the room.
“Oh. Who are you?” she asked, taking a step back and eyeing her warily.
“Um, I’m, uh, I’m Tamsyn.”
Great.
Like that meant anything. The woman just stared at her in confusion. “Tamsyn?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing here? How do you know my son and his friends? And where is Salem?”
Wait.
This was Salem’s mum?
Oh heck.
What did she do? How did she explain who she was?
“He’s still at work,” she said. “I’m, um, the cleaner. I mean, I took over cleaning while Evette was gone.”
Salem’s mum looked her up and down skeptically. “Do you always lie around on your employer’s sofa while you’re supposed to be working? And has this room even been cleaned? The floor looks dirty.”
“Um.” She glanced down at the floor. Actually, she had intended to do that. But before he’d left for work, Salem had made a fuss again about her not being their cleaner.
She guessed she should be grateful since she hated cleaning. But it also made her look really bad in front of his mum.
Which, surprisingly, she didn’t like.
Had he told his mum about her? Well, no, he can’t have or his mum would know who she was.
It wasn’t like they’d been together that long.
Would he be mad that she’d met his mum?
Oh hell.
“Isn’t Evette back?” his mum asked.
“She was meant to be, but she has a sore stomach.”
Salem’s mum let out a small huff. “Well, that’s too bad. Evette is an excellent cleaner.”
And she wasn’t.
She got it.
“So you can leave now,” the older woman said.
“I’m not finished for the day, though,” she protested.
“It seems that you are, considering that you were lying on the sofa rather than working. I don’t want my son spending his hard-earned money on someone who is taking advantage. So I will finish cleaning and you will go.”
Oh heck.
What did she do now? And her phone was upstairs.
“I have to go upstairs and get—”
“No, no. You don’t need to go anywhere but out the door.” His mum moved forward, her gaze narrowing as she took in the empty bag of potato chips, along with a half-eaten block of chocolate.
Yeah, she might have found those in the cupboard and helped herself.
In her defense, she had planned on replacing them. Somehow.
Or at least she was going to hide the evidence before the guys got home.
Shit.
“You’ve been lazing around and eating their food? Do you really think that you could take advantage of them like this? Shame on you. They are good men and you are just a lazy user. Out!”