Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“I want to make you feel good, too.” He stays deep in thought, and my mind starts spinning. Maybe he’s worried I’ll get scared when my eyes land on his thick dick with his piercing. I’m not. If anything, I’m excited. I want to wrap the palm of my hand around his length. I want to know what it’s like to taste him, to watch him come undone exactly like he’s watching me.
“This was for you. Next time, you can have your way with me. Plus, we have less than an hour before we need to be at the festival for our tattoos, and what I want you to do to me, we’ll need a lot longer than that.” He hops off the bed with an agility I wish I had. Okay, maybe not all the muscles he’s packing, because seriously, my man is ripped, and not in like a beef stack, take steroids kind of way. You can tell it’s more of a mix of working with his hands and incorporating weights and cardio at a gym.
“Oh.” I purse my lips, sit up in bed, and adjust my top to tuck in my breast that Jude had his mouth on moments earlier.
“It’ll also include you being naked. You don’t have to put yourself back together for me, Foxy. I like you undone, writhing on my dick and moaning my name.” Jude cups his dick, fisting it. It does nothing to help matters when it comes to our mutual craving for one another. My core aches with emptiness, attempting to grasp at something but only receiving air. I’m ready to no call, no show the tattoo appointment, say fuck it to the concert, and stay in the van and only come up for air for food and water.
“That can happen right now.” I pull the string of my top down a bit only slid it up my shoulder when he got out of bed.
“Nope, I’m taking a cold-as-fuck shower. Then I’ll feed you and get us to our appointment.” Clearly, there’s no changing his mind. I’m tempted to pout or strip down naked. The way he’s holding himself back tells me he’d probably still remain stoic.
“Fine,” I concede, and he shoots a smirk my way before leaving the small room. When he gives me his back, every delectable inch of him is there for me to admire, and with each step he takes, my eyes stay on him. I take in the intricate tattoos, each one telling a story. Some I can decipher, others I’m left thinking about.
It's not until Jude disappears in the bathroom that realization hits me. He left the light on all night. I’d assumed the brightness would bother him and he would turn it off, but he didn’t, and my chest aches with happiness. Only my dad and brother ever really do anything like that for me. My ex-boyfriends sure didn’t, and neither did the girlfriends I’d occasionally spend the night at growing up and into my early twenties. Nope, they’d make a comment about me being a wuss or a baby. Jude didn’t. In fact, I’ve yet to tell him about my fear of the dark. The only way he could even remotely know about me sleeping with a light on is from the other night, further proving my point that he pays attention to the big and small details.
“Foxy, you still in bed?” His voice bounces off the walls in the bathroom.
“No,” I reply, feeling like I got caught sleeping in on a school day before scrambling off the bed. Since we crawled into bed with a made bed, I go about straightening the sheets and pillows before pulling up the comforter. Once that’s done, I move into the living area to start my day further, and while I should probably get dressed, Jude isn’t the only one who needs a shower. I’m reminded of the mess between my legs with every step I take, though I’m not complaining. Now, I’m thankful for overpacking because my shorts are officially ruined until they’ve been washed.
I’m about to turn on the coffee pot when my phone lights up on the couch. I completely forgot to plug it in before going to bed last night. A few steps, and I look at the display. “Well, fuck, now I’m in for it.” My thumb quickly types the code in, unbothered to use the facial recognition. There are three messages from Dad and Zane. Damage control is imminent.
Dad: Ronnie, where’s the tequila? I swear this place wouldn’t survive without you.
I smile at the text. He’s not wrong, but also, which freaking tequila is he asking about? There are only about twenty different ones he could be talking about.
Me: Which one? Good morning, by the way. Sorry I didn’t text you yesterday. I hope you won’t run the bar into the ground ;)