Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
As she starts to whimper, as she arches her hips, as she grabs my hair, I don’t stop. I pick up the pace a little bit while the pleasure runs roughshod through my veins. She grinds against my face then lets out the sexiest little squeak, digs her nails into my skull and then shouts, “Oh my god.”
Like it surprised her. Like she wasn’t expecting the orgasm to take her hostage.
She rocks up into my mouth as pleasure seems to take over her body, and I kiss her through it as lust barrels through mine.
When I let go, she’s panting, breathing hard, running a hand through her hair, basking in the letting go, and it’s a stunning sight. Made even more so when her eyes flutter open, and she looks both satisfied and powerful. And like a woman with a plan.
She scoots up a little on the pillows, then pushes her tits together. “Come on me.”
I’m not saying no to that.
I rip off my jeans and boxer briefs, then drag my fingers through her sweet, wet pussy, and lube my dick with her orgasm.
She gasps.
“Knew you could do it, beautiful. I fucking believe in you, my horny, dirty woman.”
“Lake,” she says, but it comes out like a needy rasp.
“Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you need,” I say, then slide my fingers through her one more time, watching her shudder, then shudder again as I stroke myself.
I straddle her chest and slide my slick cock between her breasts, give a few quick pumps, then stop when she darts out her tongue. “You want a taste of me?”
“I really do.”
I move higher, offering her my dick.
She parts her lips so perfectly, so seamlessly. Yes, she’s letting go indeed.
I give her an inch, and she takes it, flicking her tongue all over the head. My thighs are shaking. My brain is scrambling.
“I’m close,” I mutter, then shift back down to her tits.
She squeezes them again, offering me the fantastic valley between them. And I take, and I fuck, till I’m eaten alive by pleasure and coming all over this woman.
When I collapse next to her, both of us a sticky mess, she runs a hand along her breasts, drags her fingers through my release, then brings it to her mouth. She sucks me off her fingers, closes her eyes, and moans.
And right now, nothing feels fake between us.
37
THANKS FOR THE EARMUFFS
REMY
“Drop you off at your place, the arena, a sex toy shop, or some, I don’t know, glow-in-the-dark neon paint and pottery shop you’re testing for a date?”
Lake poses the question as we cruise across the Golden Gate Bridge the next day, the Pacific Ocean unfurling endlessly to the right, with choppy waves cutting through the dark water.
I give him a playful look. “Just dropping ‘sex toy shop’ in the middle of them.” Is he trying to tell me something? Like, he wants to use one on me? The zip of electricity through my body is saying, You know you want him to.
“Sex toy shops are always a good idea.” He smirks. “For dates and all.”
“Ah, so you’re just being oh so helpful and suggesting I recommend it for clients,” I say, nodding a few times like right, of course I buy that.
“Yup. I bet it’d be a big hit,” he says dryly. Then in a curious tone, he asks, “Have you ever had a client that wanted that? Like a sexier type of date? Maybe a strip club, or something like that?”
“I actually planned a sex toy shop tour for two women, and they said it was the best date night of their lives.”
“If you want to test it for yourself, you just let me know, Remy,” he says with that familiar confidence in his tone.
Is he asking me on a date of sorts? Maybe but I’m not entirely sure. This might be like the nap lesson, or it might be an offhand remark about sex toys. I don’t want to read into it or assume he’s suggesting something when he’s not. “Noted. But also, if you know of a glow-in-the-dark neon paint and pottery shop and are holding out on me, you’re in big trouble.”
“Nope but I’m sure there is one somewhere, someplace,” he says, a smile shifting his lips.
Lake’s smiled more these last couple of days than I’ve seen in the past. He looks good when he smiles. I like that maybe I’m responsible.
“No doubt,” I say, then return to his original question. “My place is fine. I have to meet Caroline at the shower venue so we can review the setup. And then I’m going to the arena for a meeting with Daniel.”
“Busy day,” he says, his smile slowly slipping away as we cruise off the bridge, the road dipping down toward the Marina. He slows at a red light, his brow furrowed, then turns his gaze briefly to me. He doesn’t speak right away. Just flexes his hands tighter around the wheel, then loosens them. Clears his throat. “I had a really good time, Remy.”