Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
With Taryn in it.
He avoided the squeaky floorboard on his way back to his room, closed the door with a soft click, then twisted the lock so their nut nuggets didn’t barge in without warning.
He’d prefer to avoid that cockblock. He’d also prefer that Wren didn’t catch Stone’s ass railing his mother. That could cause all kinds of emotional damage for both Taryn and her son.
He shucked his boxers, leaving them where they dropped. While fisting his dick, he approached the bed and paused to study an out-cold Taryn.
She had to be worn out from spending the day shooting content for her new YouTube channel. How filming videos about cooking were so damn tiring, he had no fucking clue.
But he was happy to see that she took his suggestion seriously. He had no doubt she’d be successful at it. The more money she made from teaching online classes—maybe even doing that meal prep shit—the less she’d have to go into a stranger’s home.
Which could be a dangerous fucking undertaking on a good day.
While those videos would keep her busy in the daylight, tonight, no videos would be made. Hell no, tonight would be all live action.
He grinned.
As long as she didn’t shut him down.
His grin flattened at that possibility.
All he needed to do was play his cards right and convince her that what they did in the bathroom should be done on a regular basis.
A bonus to their original agreement.
Another win-fucking-win.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet whispered along her smooth skin as he slid it down and exposed her tempting flesh. He quickly discovered she no longer wore the PJ bottoms she had on earlier, but only a pair of underwear that looked similar to his boxers. He was pretty fucking sure his daughter called them something like boy shorts.
Didn’t fucking matter.
He settled more than just his ass on the mattress, doing his best not to shake it too much since he wasn’t ready for her to wake up. Not yet, anyway. He wanted to take this time to explore her when she wasn’t in motion. When she was completely unaware and relaxed.
When he could appreciate her fully without any interruptions.
With her lying on her stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, he studied every inch he could see. From the dark strands of hair covering her face to the feminine curves of her shoulders, the arch of her spine, the dip found at the small of her back, the rise of her fuckable ass cheeks in that snug red cotton.
He curled his fingers tightly into his palms to fight the urge to smack them. To watch them jiggle from the impact. Possibly explore an area he doubted anyone had touched yet.
He’d volunteer to be the first.
His gaze followed the descending slope of her ass—he was tempted to sink his teeth there—to her soft thighs. He visually traced her calves before ending with her bare feet.
He noticed days ago how cute her toes were. The nails were painted a light pink, the same as the short nails on her hands. She probably had to keep them trimmed due to working with food.
In the little over a week he’d known her, he’d seen zero evidence of this woman being high maintenance. She didn’t wear heavy makeup or a bunch of flashy jewelry. No fake hair, fake lashes or even fake nails. The bathroom wasn’t overflowing with a bunch of bullshit to make her look good and fake out a man.
He swore some women had a product for each part of her damn body. A few times he’d woken up in a woman’s bed and went to take a piss only to find the counter covered in expensive bullshit used to make them look better than they were in reality.
He preferred women who didn’t give him a jump scare when he woke up next to them after their makeup had worn off. Of course, when his buzz was, too.
When Taryn wasn’t wearing her chef uniform, she just wore casual clothes. Jeans, T-shirts, shit like that. He hadn’t seen her in a dress or heels yet.
Stone couldn’t say he’d hate it, though. With her banging body and natural beauty, he bet she’d look smoking hot dressed up. She’d look even hotter when he bent her over, flipped that dress up and fucked her from behind.
Fuck yeah.
He pumped his fist faster.
It was time to stop fantasizing and time to start touching something other than his own dick. Licking, nipping, and biting was also on his to-do list. Maybe even leave behind a mark or two before he was through.
Fucking her in his bed would be a hell of a lot better than the quick fuck downstairs on the vanity in that cramped bathroom, despite having no complaints about it. Here, he could get comfortable and take his time appreciating her.