Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Every time I think we can’t top our previous sessions in the intimate department, something like this happens and we do. It’s like magic with her. I’ve never experienced anything like it and I pray it never ends.
For both of us.
When we are both finally spent, I help her to the shower and slowly bring her back to this world. Washing her hair and body is another pleasure for me. As is bending her over for a soft feast on her pussy before finishing up and telling her I can’t wait for her to be my wife.
“Mrs. Ginger Pavlovich.” She says on a giggle as I dry her hair. “Mrs. Stansislov Pavlovich.”
“You like that, huh?” I ask, running the towel down her body, watching the way her tits jiggle as she laughs.
“Yes. I think I was a Russian princess in a former life. It sounds very right to me.” Her smile lights up my soul. “How do you feel?”
“How do I feel?” I shake my head and throw the towel into the hamper, then take her hands and bring them to my lips, kissing the ring I placed there before I continue, unsure exactly how to express the things I’m feeling right now. “All I can say is this: you make my fucking heart smile. I mean…me…do you get that? What that means to a guy like me? You make my heart smile, babygirl. You’ve changed not just my life. You’ve changed me.”
“Thank you, Daddybear. It never gets old the way you say those things to me. Let’s promise we never stop telling each other how we feel, okay? I think that’s how couples lose touch. They stop doing the things they do in the beginning. Stop telling each other the sweet things they feel. Doing all the special little things that matter without worrying about who’s giving more or less. Let’s never do that, okay?”
“I promise. I’ll never stop telling you. We will fight for us. Forever.”
I pull her into the bedroom and sit her on the bed, then lean down for a long slow kiss, tasting her like it’s the first time every time. Listening to her soft moans at the simple pleasure of a kiss.
When I pull back, my gaze falls on the clock on the nightstand and the outside world presses back down on me.
“I’ve put off work for two days and I have things I need to settle. You stay here in bed as long as you want. Contessa is back today, so you call down and she will get you whatever you need, okay?”
I pull her up and walk her into our closet where we both put on some casual clothes for the rest of the day.
“Okay. Think I’ll go out and see Romp and Geish. Then work on the garden.” The entire time she’s talking, she’s looking down at her ring finger with a smile that lights up my heart.
The smile creeps onto my lips too, hearing her talk about those donkeys. Apparently, Calfus made some sort of threat against their lives, showed her a picture of a slaughterhouse and insinuated they were there. It was Photoshop magic. When we got back home they were out in their pasture just as fat and spoiled as ever.
I guess he didn’t have time to set up that particular piece of the jigsaw in real life but scaring my baby with that shit still raises my fury.
As soon as she saw them here, safe and well, she made me promise she could bring them in the house whenever she wanted. What the fuck was I going to do? Say no?
That didn’t happen.
I start to tell her I’ll walk her out before I leave when my phone rings. I’ve had it on silent, but Malcolm has a ring tone that comes through even when everything else is set to silent.
The euphoria of the moment dissipates with the realization that I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out in order to give us the life we deserve. A safe life, without the specter of my past constantly looming.
She deserves it. Deserves to be safe and without the blemish of the dirty life I’ve lived for too long.
I’m on the phone that sits on the dresser in a breath.
“Hold on.” I answer, putting the phone against my ear and holding it there with my shoulder. “Give me five. I’ll call you back.”
On the other end of the phone, Malcolm’s voice comes through hard and clear. “Five minutes.”
A chill takes me as I’m reminded of why I’ve stuck to this business for as long as I have. It’s not just that I loved what I did. I got a rush from it. An ego boost, for sure, and it sure as hell paid well.
But it was also a tradeoff. The underbelly of crime has a code, and my leaving this life is not part of that code. So people are fucking nervous and that’s the corner I’m in.