Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
As she walks in the door, Maddox and I each take a moment to look her up and down while she gets her bearings. “You look beautiful,” Maddox praises.
She does. Her blonde hair is softly curled, her lips are glossy pink, and her skin glows with some sort of magic. She’s wearing a pale blue, form-fitted dress that ends a few inches shy of her knees, a pair of nude stiletto heels, gold jewelry at her ears and throat, and she’s holding a brown clutch. She looks like old money royalty, not only because of her outfit, but in the way she carries herself as she examines the foyer, setting her purse down on the table there. She’s several ranks out of our league. Hell, I don’t think she’s even in the same game as us, but here she is.
“Thank you.”
For all her manners and refined elegance, Maddox and I might as well be stray dogs sniffing around her and getting more and more riled up as the smell of her floral perfume wafts into our noses. Fuck, I’ve missed this and the few minutes in her office wasn’t nearly enough. I’m under no disillusionment that tonight will satisfy this urge toward her that’s riding me hard, but it’s a start.
If we don’t blow it.
“Come on, we’ll show you around,” I grunt. I’m trying my best here, and that’s my attempt toward politeness. I pair the effort with a respectful grasp of her hand, leading her into the living room.
Behind us, I hear Maddox mumbling under his breath. “Settle down. Charm her, don’t attack her.” Surprisingly, it sounds like he’s talking to himself, not giving me a much-needed reminder.
At least I know I’m not the only one feeling desperate to get back inside Kayla. But if he’s the charmer and struggling that much, we might be fucked. God knows, I’m not the one to act right. I’ll probably have her hair-flipping out of here before we open the wine.
But I try, leaning toward Kayla to stage-whisper, “He’s trying to be gentlemanly, and of the two of us, he’s definitely better at it.”
“You seem to be doing well,” she tells me, looking from my face to our entwined hands where I’m gently running my thumb along her knuckles.
Using that connection, I quickly tug her in close, her chest slamming into mine. My voice low and rough between us, I say, “If it were up to me, we’d bend you over the couch, push that pretty dress up, and fuck you before dinner to remind you how good we can be if you’d quit fighting us.” She gasps, the light in her eyes sparkling. I lower my lips to her ear. “But the chef we hired is supposed to be really good, so we should probably eat dinner first because if I get between your legs again, I’m not coming up for air, and you’ll need some fuel for what we’re gonna do to you.” I let my other hand slide down her side to take a handful of her tight ass, squeezing her firmly.
Kayla’s mouth drops open in shock. I don’t think people talk to her like that, which is exactly why I’m doing it. I like that look of surprise in her eyes, and I really enjoy seeing her mouth falling wide open. It gives me ideas about what to fill it with.
I lift her chin with the touch of my finger, closing her mouth for her. “We can wait… unless you need it now,” I offer.
Maddox steps up behind her, sandwiching her between us, and threads his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. Pulling her head back slightly, he teases his nose along her temple and then rumbles in her ear, “What do you want, Kayla? Say it. We’ll give it to you.”
Her body goes soft for the tiniest of seconds and I think I know her answer. My dick certainly thinks he knows and is rock hard in my slacks, pressed against her belly, and I’d bet she can feel Maddox’s against her back.
She straightens suddenly, standing on her own and not leaning on either of us. “Dinner smells delicious, and far be it from me to disrespect the chef by delaying our meal.” She steps away, putting a foot of distance between her and us and giving us a smile that is pure devilment. She’s enjoying this, tormenting and teasing us.
And though my dick complains, I’m enjoying it too.
“Then what happened?” Maddox asks Kayla, refilling her red wine.
Our dinner was as delicious as promised, the chef has long gone, and now we’re sitting around the dining table, talking. It feels comfortable, like the magic from before was real and has carried over, something I was afraid I’d made up or that wouldn’t feel the same without the semi-anonymity.