Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
But curiosity made me bold, and I decided just to check if it would open first.
Assuming it was as stuck as the first one, I stepped back, flexed my shoulders, and pushed my arms forward. I rushed toward it, not expecting it to open with ease. But it flew open, crashing into something beside it. I found myself falling into piles of cloth. I twisted and turned, spinning out of control, crashing forward, grasping at mysterious soft items, stumbling over objects on the floor. I yelped as something caught on my camisole, and I heard the material tear. I was grateful when I hit another wall, leaning on it, panting and confused, hearing Miller barking like crazy. I had to be in a closet at the front of Jesse’s place, but where—
I gasped loudly as the wall I was leaning on suddenly disappeared, and I fell forward, my arms flailing as I reached for something to break my fall. I grabbed a handful of damp material, the cotton stopping my face from hitting the floor. I groaned into the fabric, rolling over to find Jesse staring down at me, shocked and confused, a fireplace poker in his hand.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then Jesse let out a growl the likes of which I had never heard before.
“What. The. Fuck?”
I gazed up at him, transfixed.
Two things became very apparent.
One: Jesse was home and had been in the shower.
Two: It was his towel I had grabbed, and now he stood over me, wet, dripping—and naked.
Chapter Eleven
JESSE
Istepped out of the shower, rolling my shoulders. It had been a busy day at the Habitat house, and I had built several walls and helped put them up. We’d made lots of progress, but I was glad to be home. The hot water had felt great on my sore muscles. I wrapped a towel around my waist and was reaching for one to dry my hair when I heard it.
A loud commotion coming from downstairs. It sounded as if a cupboard had fallen, taking everything with it as it hit the floor. Miller started barking loudly. I raced down the stairs, realizing it was coming from the closet where I kept coats, shoes, and extra items I wasn’t using at the moment.
And from the noises I was hearing, someone was in the closet. I instinctually grabbed the closest weapon, a fireplace poker, and reached for the door handle.
The last thing I expected was for Casey to fall face first out of the closet.
The second-to-last thing I expected was for her to grab my towel to stop her fall, leaving me naked.
I was so shocked, all I could do was stare. My gaze bounced to the closet, where I saw a passage to her place, open wide. The closet was a disaster, clothes and footwear scattered.
I dropped my gaze back to her as she rolled over and froze. Somehow while she’d been acting like a tornado in the closet, her camisole had torn.
Her right breast was bare, her left not as exposed but close, the creamy flesh on display. Round, full orbs that beckoned to be touched.
Her nipples were stiff, peaked. A deep shade of dark pink. Perfect for sucking.
Just like in my fantasy last night.
I shook my head. What the hell was I doing ogling her breasts while she was lying on the floor?
How the fuck did she get in here?
Before I could speak, her eyes widened.
“Holy Batman,” she whispered. “That is an impressive fire hose.”
I looked down, startled. My cock had decided he liked Casey on the floor, her breasts on display. I was rock hard. Solid.
“Ah—” I stammered.
“The Dark Knight rises,” she intoned.
If anything, I got harder.
“Towel,” I snapped.
She rolled to her knees, handing me the towel without a word.
Jesus. Now, her mouth was inches from my dick, which wanted me to shuffle forward and say hello properly.
“Tits,” I almost yelled, wrapping the towel back around my waist. It didn’t do anything to hide my situation, but I felt marginally more in control.
“Have you developed Tourette syndrome? Or do you always yell tits when upset?” she asked, still looking up at me from her knees.
I leaned down, almost hissing at her. “Your tits, Casey. They. Are. On. Display.”
She looked down, grimacing and pulling at her tank.
“Well, tit for tat—or in this case…cock, I guess.”
I groaned. Hearing her say cock wasn’t helping my situation. I reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “Put on a shirt and sit down. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back.”
Racing up the stairs with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but I managed. I yanked on a T-shirt, then cursed and changed. I wasn’t wearing a bloody Batman one right now. I found a fire station shirt and pulled it over my head. I stood for a moment, trying to think of terrible things. Sad things. Dead puppies. Mark snoring at night. My house covered in wind chimes.