Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Now you’re in big trouble.” He sets my feet back on the ground. I start to take off again, only to have him block me and pin me back against the wall by my upper arms.
I kick my dangling feet, giggling. He insinuates his thigh between mine, leaning forward and dragging his mouth up my neck. I pant, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Oh God,” he moans. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? You’re going to get yourself fucked right here against this wall. Is that what you want?”
His words set me on fire, the coarseness of his language flicking the switch from hot to flaming. His fingers bite into the flesh of my arms, but I don’t want it to end. “Yeah,” I breathe.
His eyelids flicker, and he inhales deeply, releasing my arms to cup my breasts. With my back planted against the wall and my legs wound around his waist, he holds me pinned in position. I lose my mind completely, so crazed with desire I can’t wait another instant to have him inside me. I reach for the button on his slacks, managing to undo it as he kneads my ass with his hands. He reaches back with one hand to grab his wallet out of his pocket before he wriggles to shimmy his slacks down. After retrieving a condom from the billfold and putting it between his teeth, he tosses the wallet on the floor with the pants. He slips his finger in the gusset of my panties. Finding me wet, he makes an approving noise. I snatch the condom from his mouth and rip open the wrapper, grasping his cock with a firm grip to slide it on.
Bobby shifts his position against me and yanks my panties to the side to push the head of his sheathed cock against my entrance. I gasp as he shoves deeper, filling me. He holds my thighs and uses the wall to brace me as he pumps in and out, the sound of our bodies banging the drywall covering the noise of my cries. I nearly sob with need. Bobby’s aggression, the way he manhandles me, makes me feel more desirable than I ever felt in my life. As if he finds me so sexy he can hardly control himself, can’t make it the extra five feet to the bed, needs me as badly as I now need him.
“Oh God, oh yeah!” he shouts, coming.
I spasm around his cock, his orgasm the only excuse I need to come. I clutch his shoulders, digging my nails into his arms as my vision turns black with sparks of light.
“Bobby,” I pant, sounding hoarse. So far he’s three for three. So much for trouble getting off with a partner. With Bobby Manghini, it doesn’t seem to be an issue.
He remains pressed inside me, breathing against my neck, fingers gripping the flesh of my thighs.
“I’m pretty sure that messed up your hair,” he says when his breath slows.
I give a contented sigh, and he releases me, easing out as he gently lowers my legs.
“That was a very nice start to our date.” He pulls up his pants and zips them.
I lower my skirt and straighten the bustier. “Yes,” I agree.
“I will have to make sure to reward you properly.”
I have no idea what he means, but his words excite me, making me eager to win his approval during every encounter.
We freshen up and head out. He drives me to L’amore, a fancy Italian restaurant where the maitre d’ greets him by name.
“Sal, this is my girl, Lexi.”
The maitre d’ actually bows to me. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“If she comes here, with or without me, you take good care of her and put it on my tab, capisce?”
“Absolutely, Mr. Manghini.”
Um wow. I try to hide my pleasure at the idea of having free rein to dine on his dime. I have seriously been living on canned tuna and frozen burritos. This is a massive treat for me.
The waiter comes and Bobby looks over the top of the wine menu at me. “Do you prefer wine or a cocktail?”
“You decide.” I’m honestly a little overwhelmed by all the new luxuries coming at me at once.
Bobby seems to like that answer because his gaze turns warm. He orders a bottle of Shiraz. “And Anthony?” he calls our waiter back.
“Yes, Mr. Manghini?”
“This is Lexi, my girl. I want you to treat her like a princess, understand? If she says ‘jump’, you ask ‘how high?’ Got it?”
“Of course, Mr. Manghini.” Anthony gives me a deferential bow of his head. “Don’t hesitate to ask me for anything.”
Okay, now I really feel like a princess. No one has ever said anything like that for or about me before. I work a service-type job. I make the clients feel like queens, not the other way around. I’m the one fluffing people up–I don’t get fluffed. It’s almost too much, like I want to tell the waiter he doesn’t have to–that I’m a peasant too, and he shouldn’t worry about me. But screw that. I created this situation out of nothing. Two nights ago, I was literally almost on the street. I’m not going to refuse abundance when it knocks on my door–even if it’s only temporary. Or perhaps, especially because it’s only temporary. I’m going to milk the hell out of this situation with Bobby while I’m in it.