Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Wheeler flattens her palm on my stomach. For a split second, I think she’s going to kiss me. Her eyes toggle between mine, and I see the heat in them. The longing.
Same longing that I feel, even though we already fucked twice this morning. Once in bed. Once in the shower.
Not sure I ever wanna shower alone again.
Are we gonna be able to make it down the mountain without me begging her for some road head? I’ll happily return the favor. She knows that, surely?
But then she turns away and climbs into the truck. “Mollie wants me to give her a call. I’ll drive the second half if that’s okay. Just so I can get some work done.”
I feel the cold suddenly press in on me, the skin on my face and hands stinging. “I’ll drive, no problem.”
The winding road that leads us down the mountain is icy in spots. I go extra slow, silently praying the U-Haul’s brakes don’t give out.
Luckily, I have Wheeler doing boss babe shit to distract me. I legit get hard listening to her talk business strategy and branding management as we hit the highway.
“I think we reframe the conversation as us being more a fashion enterprise than anything else.” She’s got her computer on her lap now and is busily typing away with her phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder. “That way, we remain open to all kinds of collabs. We could do handbags, jewelry, jackets… Why limit ourselves to just boots, you know?” She pauses, listening. “Yep. That’s exactly right. We can do fun branded Western wear. Have a booth at, say, Round Top… Yes! Exactly.”
I’d go to Round Top with you.
Really, why stop there? We could do trunk shows all over the world. Maybe open up some stores in places like Aspen and, hell, New York City while we’re at it.
By the time she hangs up, the sun is shining, and I’m so turned on I have a difficult time focusing on the road.
“Where are we going?” Wheeler asks when I take an exit that looks like it leads pretty much nowhere.
My hands shake as I turn the wheel. “Quick detour.”
“If you need to use the restroom, this doesn’t look like the place to—”
“That’s not what I need.” Reaching across the console, I grab her hand and put it on my crotch. “You. Being smart and bossy and…confident. It’s so fucking hot, Blue. I’m tired, but I ain’t too tired for another round. You?”
Turning my head, I see her expression flicker. It’s a look I know well now: the blaze in her eyes, the way her nostrils flare just the tiniest bit. The edges of her mouth curl ever so slightly upward. Her cheeks go pink.
Yeah, she’s game.
Thank God she’s still game.
“You want me to boss you around?” she asks, her hand moving to cup my erection through my jeans. “Oh yeah, you like being bossed around.”
The road is empty. I pull onto the shoulder and shove the gearshift into park. Then I hold up my hands. “All right, boss lady. Do what you will.”
Her eyes flash with hunger as she pulls down my zipper and reaches for my cock through the slit in my briefs. She wraps her fingers around me, gives me a firm tug, running her thumb up my head, and my other head falls back on the headrest with an audible thump.
The engine rumbles as she works my shaft. I love how she flicks her wrist so that her palm moves over my tip. She must’ve watched me do that this morning when we showered together.
Girl notices everything. Even the tiniest, most insignificant shit.
Maybe she will come home with me tonight.
Nice to feel noticed for once. Growing up, I had a bit of a rebellious streak. An attempt, I think, to get attention.
An attempt to not be forgotten.
Now here’s Wheeler, remembering everything.
“Sweetheart.” I can barely breathe. “Why don’t you come over here? Sit on it for a minute or five.”
She smirks, leaning over the console. “I thought I was the boss.”
“Not when I want you this bad, you’re not. I can’t—fuuuuck.”
Wheeler’s head is in my lap now. Holding my dick in her hand, she licks my tip, swirling her tongue over the most sensitive part of my head.
“See?” She sucks my head into her mouth. Bobs down. Bobs up. Licks me again, slowly, savoring me like she can’t get enough of my taste. “I’m in charge. I do what I want, Duke, so you best mind your business and let me work.”
And does. She. Work.
I gather her hair in my hand so I can watch her suck my dick like the motherfucking champion she is. Her cheeks hollow out when she gives me a quick, hard suck. My hips jerk, my balls contracting. How I have any stamina left, I don’t know, but I manage to keep my orgasm at bay.