Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Most men refuse.
Even when they know I have an IUD and we’re both STD-free. They refuse to indulge my kink, even after I’ve assured them numerous times that I have no urge to “trick” them into being a father and that my birth control is firmly in place and good for at least seven years.
But Dean…
God, Dean…
He fills me up. He comes and comes, until I can’t hold it, and our still joined bodies are making an unholy mess on the sunbed cushion. I can feel him leaking out of me, and it’s every bit as hot as my pervert brain thought it would be.
“So good,” I murmur against his cheek as he lies heavy on top of me after. “So, so good.”
“Incredible,” he agrees. He reaches down, squeezing my ass as he grinds even closer, making me suck in a breath as he shifts against my clit. “Love feeling you dripping around me.”
“Me, too,” I say, my breath hitching again as he rolls his hips in a lazy circle, making his softening, but still not completely soft, cock rub deliciously against my tingling inner walls. “Wh-What are you doing?”
“Seeing if I can make you come again before I pull out,” he says, drawing back far enough to hold my gaze. “What do you think? Can you give me one more, beautiful?” He circles his hips again, slow and easy, and keeps circling them, staring into my soul as he grinds against my clit. “Yeah, I think you can,” he murmurs as I begin to tremble. “There you go. Good girl,” he rumbles as he reaches up, teasing my nipple lightly between his finger and thumb.
I want to tell him I don’t go in for the “good girl” thing, either.
But, much like butt stuff, I’m starting to think I just haven’t met a man who could make it hot before.
And it’s not like I can talk right now, anyway, not when I’m suddenly being turned inside out by a bone-deep orgasm so intense that blissed out tears roll down my face as Dean murmurs, “Good girl. Yes, fuck, that’s so good, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come for me. When you’re soaking my cock like this. Fuck, Clover. Fuck, sweetheart, God, you’re so perfect.”
“Dean,” I gasp, clinging to him as I fight to survive what he’s done to my body. “Oh, Dean.”
I almost tell him right then that I love him.
Because in this moment, with his voice warm in my ear and his body deep inside me and all the pleasure he’s given me pickling my brain in happy chemicals, I do love him. I’m not sure I’ve ever loved anyone or anything more, in fact.
Thankfully, before I can make an absolute idiot of myself, a voice calls from outside, no more than four or five feet from the shed, “See you later, Clover. I’m heading home, okay?”
Eyes flying wide and guilt flooding in fast, I call out, “I’m so sorry, Plato. So, so sorry. I’m a terrible person and friend.”
He laughs. “Nah, just horny. But don’t worry about it, you know I’m used to it.”
I wince, biting my lip for a beat before answering Dean’s unspoken question with a whisper, “His parents are swingers. He came over to escape the sexcapades.” In a louder voice, I call, “I’m still sorry. And I’ll make it up to you, I promise, okay?”
“Seriously, no worries. You crazy kids just be sure to get inside before you pass out. It’s going to get below freezing tonight,” he says, his voice moving farther away as he adds, “And check your kitchen table when you get the chance, Clover. I left you a little present.”
“Thank you,” I say, my curiosity piqued, but not enough to move a single solitary muscle toward my apartment. “Drive safe, and I’ll text you.”
“Okay,” Plato calls, followed by a sassy caw from somewhere overhead that makes me think Edgar hasn’t gone to bed, after all.
He isn’t a good boy.
And I’m not a good girl.
I’m a very bad girl who has just jumped into the deep end of the feelings pool with my boss. Who isn’t my boss anymore.
But maybe he kind of is? Maybe I kind of want him to be?
“I don’t think I should quit,” I say, as the air outside goes quiet once more. “I don’t want to abandon Ava and Bella like that. We’re already so close, and—”
“And you’ll stay close. As friends,” Dean says, pulling out and proceeding to mop us both up with his boxer briefs. He’s so easy and relaxed about it that, for the first time in memory, the “after sex” part of things doesn’t feel the slightest bit awkward. “I want you to stay in the apartment as long as you want. And I’ve already arranged for two months’ severance pay and a glowing recommendation with Tasha. You can decide whether to look for another nanny job or shift to working on your design stuff full-time. Meanwhile, you’ll also spend as much time with the guy you’re dating and his adorable kids as feels right.”