Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“I want a bunny,” Ellie announced.
Oh Christ. I chuckled under my breath and put some salad on my plate.
Alfie answered around a mouthful of food. “Then we gotta give away Shorty first. You want that?”
She gasped in horror. “You can’t do that!”
I smiled and pushed the chicken closer to Colby. “What do you want for Christmas, Colby?”
“A bunny?” Ellie asked him pleadingly.
Poor boy. He didn’t get a word in edgewise before Ellie had a bunch of suggestions that would magically appear in her room if she had her way. He took it in stride, though. A princess castle? Another cat? A doll? Legos?
“I don’t know,” he laughed quietly. “I did like Legos when I was a kid. Does that count?”
“You know, we actually did a segment on that a couple of years ago,” I mentioned. “It’s become a grown-up hobby.”
“I know what Colby needs,” Alfie said, forking up more rice and sauce. “His own car. He needs to get around.”
That wasn’t a bad idea at all, actually. Despite the wide-eyed look Colby was currently giving us.
Throughout dinner, that buzzing question popped up every now and then—where I asked myself if I was a killer. Or rather, if I cared about the answer. And somewhere between Alfie and Colby cracking up at one of Trip’s deadpan puns and Ellie wondering if she could dye Shorty’s fur blue, the solution came to me.
The questions were wrong.
Had I helped out in eliminating Giulia’s attacker?
Yes.
Did that make me feel guilty?
Not one fucking bit.
“What about green?” Ellie hedged.
What was she smoking? She became outraged if someone suggested she colored an animal in one of her coloring books a shade that wasn’t realistic.
Alfie chewed around a mouthful of food and stared at her. “You think it’s the color we’re saying no to? You can’t fuckin’ dye the cat’s fur, baby. It’s nuts.”
I leaned closer to him. “What about yellow?”
Ellie gasped. “I like yellow!”
Alfie gave me a look. “And you call me a shit-stirrer.”
I smirked.
CHAPTER 24
Alfie Scott
Igroaned sleepily into my pillow and instinctively pulled my knee higher. Waking up with kisses along my spine never hurt. Especially with his morning wood poking at my ass.
“What time is it?” I mumbled.
“Almost five. But no messages yet.”
Five?! Wait, message—oh shit, because it was Tuesday. Fuck. Yeah, okay, so the police had found the first surprise. Depending on how early people were out, number two and three would soon get called in. After that, media shitshow.
I let West’s seduction sweep me away again, and I arched my back and pushed out my ass for him. To which he hummed appreciatively and dropped an openmouthed kiss between my ass cheeks.
I shivered and groaned again, and he began driving me crazy. He kneaded my flesh firmly and sensually, all while he licked me and fucked me softly with his tongue.
“Fuck,” I exhaled.
My mouth was too dry, so I lifted my head and squinted at the nightstand. West always kept a glass of water there, so I reached for it and chugged the last half he’d left behind. Then I caught a whiff of his cologne, and I returned the glass.
“Did you shower?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm. I wanted to be ready.” He pulled himself up and spread my legs apart with his knees. Right after, I felt the head of his cock pushing against my ass, and he gripped my hips. “It’ll have to be quick, baby boy.”
Yup, I was good with that. We knew it was going to be a long day, so it was best to start it off with a nice release.
I dove into service mode and got up on all fours for him, and he made another sound of approval.
“Fuck, you have the most exquisite little ass…” He stroked my cheeks and only pushed the tip of his cock inside me. Then he rubbed his fingers around my opening, and I clenched up. “Perfect,” he whispered. “I want you to fuck yourself on me.”
Fuck yes.
He started easing back to sit on his heels, so I followed eagerly and took more and more of him. It was slow, it was fiery, it was sensational. Way more friction than when we used oil.
Each wave of excitement that rolled over me woke me up and made me greedy.
Before long, I was rolling my hips and fucking myself on his cock, and he let me control the pace while he kissed my neck and stroked me off. He used both hands and cupped my balls too.
More. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
I let out a moan and picked up the pace. My breathing turned shallow, and I felt his internal struggle with self-restraint with every thrust. He wanted to take over, but I did have one magical power for quickies. Nobody could get him off faster than me when I went to town on him. He sucked in sharp breaths and grunted through clenched teeth, and his touches became rougher and laced with more desperation.