Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Her hair is all over me, but we don’t stop kissing the whole time I walk to her bedroom. “Did you miss me?” I ask her when she lets me go and rips her shirt over her head.
“I plan to show you how much I missed you,” she says, and she does just that. For the next three hours, we get lost in each other.
She lies on her stomach beside me, the sheet covering her ass, but one foot has come out. “So good,” she says, her eyes blinking slowly.
“Good to know.” I lean over and kiss her. “I’m going to shower. Are you coming with me?”
“Are you going to do that thing again?” she asks me, looking over her shoulder.
“What thing?” I ask her because God knows we’ve tried everything you could think of.
“That thing with your tongue and then your fingers.” She smiles and rolls over, a faint hickey forming right next to her nipple.
“I can be talked into it,” I tell her and make my way to the bathroom. “You’ll just have to come and find out,” I taunt. I don’t even have the water on before I feel her behind me.
“I came just in case,” she tells me, and I get her in the shower and give her what she wants. I stay in until the water starts turning cold, then get out before her as she rinses out her conditioner.
“Should I order some food?” I ask her, and she laughs.
“I was going to cook!” she yells from the shower. “But I got sidetracked by cock.”
“I guess since I’m the cock that benefited from that, I forgive you.” I walk into the bedroom and slip back into my pants and my shirt. I get my phone out and order us a pizza since it’s easier.
She comes out of the shower ten minutes later with her hair wrapped up in a towel and wearing one of my shirts. “Did you order?” she asks me, and I nod, taking a drink from the water bottle I just opened.
“I did. I ordered pizza,” I tell her, and there is a knock on the door. “I’ll get it.” I walk to the door, grabbing the pizza, and walk back into the kitchen where she is sitting at the dining room table.
“I got everything,” she says, and I walk out to see she has two plates and some water.
I open the pizza box and give her a piece and bite into mine. “How was the road trip?” she asks while she takes a bite of her own slice.
“Good,” I tell her, wiping my hand on the napkin. “I just can’t wait for next Saturday when I can get on the ice.”
“Is that the season opener?” she asks me, and I nod.
“My parents are coming in,” I tell her, and she stops chewing. “We’ll meet up with them after the game.”
“Um …” she says, and I look over at her. “How about I pass this time?” She looks down at her pizza and then up at me.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means that I’ll meet them another time,” she says, and I push away from the table to get some water. I grab a bottle of water and take a drink and then look at her.
“Does this mean you aren’t going to be there to support me?” I ask. My heart is hammering in my chest, and I’m trying not to squeeze the shit out of the water bottle.
“Of course, I’m going to support you,” she says. “It’ll just be on the down low.”
“What is going on right now?”
“I have no idea,” she says, her eyes watching mine.
“We are together,” I tell her. “And I want you to meet my parents.”
“I don’t do relationships,” she says softly, and my heart stops pounding or beating, or perhaps, I just stop breathing. “You know this.”
“What the fuck do you think we’re doing?” I yell louder than I want to. “Honestly, Vivienne, what the fuck do you think we are doing?”
“We are having fun,” she says calmly, her face not showing anything.
“I don’t do fun,” I tell her. “I don’t do this”—I point at her and me—“unless I’m in a relationship.”
She slaps her hand on the table. “What? The first time we slept together, we were not.”
“And I gave in to you, knowing that if I said anything, you would freak out,” I tell her finally. “We went on dates.” I point at her. “We spend all our time together.”
“I know that, Mark,” she says, not using Markos, and I know that no matter what I say, she will never change her mind.
“Well, then,” I say, putting the bottle down on the table. “I guess this …” I want to say that it’s over, but the words get stuck in my throat. “I’m going to go.”