Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I nodded my head. “I felt like doing a little reenactment.”
“A bit optimistic, aren’t you?” he teased, his lips going to my neck.
I breathed out slowly. “It’s better than being a pessimist like you.”
“What’s so bad about being a pessimist?” he asked.
I grinned, then said, “A pessimist carries a knife with him in case of an attack.”
“And what would an optimist do?” he teased.
“They would carry a knife in case there was cake,” I replied deadpan.
He blinked, then threw his head back and bellowed in laughter.
“Are you comparing me to cake?” he challenged.
I shrugged.
“If the shoe fits.”
He grinned and pulled me closer, his mouth finding its way down my neck.
“I noticed you parked in a dark corner of the lot,” he said. “Last time we did this under the streetlamp.”
“I know,” I panted. “I was hoping you wouldn’t make me do that again.”
He grinned and leaned forward, running his tongue from the base of my throat to the tip of my chin.
“I feel like a damn teenager,” he said. “All I think about is fucking you.”
I snickered.
“That’s a bad thing?”
“No,” he disagreed. “Unless it’s interfering with your daily life like it is with me.”
I ran my hands up his chest, coming to the tops of his arms and smoothing them up and down again.
“I watched our video last night,” I said. “Masturbated to us.”
He growled.
“I also ordered myself a cock-mold. I can make a mold of your penis and use it when you’re gone,” I batted my eyes at him.
“You’re not going to get a mold of my cock,” he replied. “If I can’t have you while I’m at work, you can’t have me either.”
I harrumphed, and his eyes lit up.
They glittered in the dark.
The mood, however, was killed when my belly growled ferociously.
I hadn’t eaten beforehand, hoping after I had him nice and satisfied, he’d agree to go inside for a quick bite.
Instead, it derailed my plans entirely.
“Let’s go get you something to eat,” he said, pushing at my hips.
I shook my head.
“No,” I denied him, wrapping my hands around his neck.
He chuckled when my belly growled again.
“You’ll need your energy,” he said. “I plan to use you later, not to mention this parking lot now has cameras all over it.”
I stiffened.
“What?” I breathed.
He nodded his head in apology. “Got ‘em last month due to an increased amount of break-ins. They have a company out of Longview monitoring them 24/7.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit,” I gasped. “I almost forced myself on you, and people would’ve seen!”
“I don’t think it’s considered forcing yourself on me if I would’ve welcomed it,” he noted, pushing open the door and dropping out of his truck.
He reached back in for me, and I jumped into his arms.
He caught me and held me off my feet for a few long seconds as he stared into my eyes.
“I love you, you know.”
My eyes lowered as I said, “I love you, too.”
His face lit as I returned his words, and I silently cursed myself for not telling him sooner.
He’d first said those words to me almost two months ago and had repeated them multiple times since then.
I’d just been too scared to tell him I felt the same.
What was different about tonight, I didn’t know, but I found myself grateful that the words had slipped free of my lips. His smile was worth the fear of rejection and uncertainty.
“Come on,” he said, dropping me to my feet. “Let’s go eat.”
He beeped the locks on the truck and took my hand as we made our way inside.
The entire way to the door, my belly growled, eliciting a snort from the clearly amused man.
“What?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you brought me here.”
I shrugged.
“I’ve been dying to have it, and my desire for the food overruled your hate for this place,” I told him bluntly.
It was true.
I’d been craving it for weeks now, and the cravings had only gotten worse.
The more I tried not to think about my favorite Mexican restaurant, the more I wanted it.
“You are nuts,” he groaned. “I’d just like it to go on record that I said that.”
I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not that bad,” I challenged him with my eyes.
He opened the door for me and I hurried inside, breathing in the delicious aroma of freshly made tortillas and Mexican spices.
“They’ve spilled a Coke on me each and every time I’ve been here,” he said. “The woman does it on purpose. She hates me.”
I gave him a narrow eyed look.
“You shouldn’t have made her go if she didn’t want to,” I informed him.
He sighed and I heard the door behind us open and close, the bells above the doorway jingling with the newest arrival’s entrance.
“She got arrested, and she was injured. She needed medical attention, and the arresting officer made me take her to the hospital. I couldn’t refuse,” he told me once again.