Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I slide out an inch and then back in two, continuing the slow descent into her body as I place my hands on her hips. I like the feel of her under my hands; she’s soft and smells faintly like cinnamon. Her curvy ass leads into a much smaller waist and I follow it with my hands, running them up her slender sides before I dip down and palm her tits as I bottom out inside of her.
She gasps and rocks forward a fraction to ease the size of me. “You’re beautiful,” I say before I realize it’s coming out of my mouth. What the fuck am I saying? I let go of her tits before she can respond and grip her shoulders. Then I pull back and thrust into her so hard she’d be face down on the bed if I wasn’t gripping her shoulders. She is beautiful, but that’s not what this is. I’m fucking her, not making love to her.
After that it’s nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and tiny groans and sighs coming from her mouth while I pound into her. There’s several ‘Oh my God, Gabe’s coming out of her mouth and when she comes her pussy grips me so tight I wonder if it’s possible to get a bruise on my dick. Worth it. I thrust for another minute before coming myself. Sandra’s long since given up on her elbows supporting her and is splayed on the bed in front of me. She flips over and looks at me after I pull out of her, her expression sated and happy and a bit wondrous.
And because I’ve never been more interested in staying after I’ve fucked someone…
I leave.
Seven
Gabe
It’s the Monday after New Year’s and I’m back at work. Four days since New Year’s Eve. Four days since I’ve seen Sandra. Four days to think about the fact that she didn’t look hurt when I pulled on my pants to leave. She simply slid under the covers on her bed and said, “Thanks for driving me home.”
What the fuck does that mean? Thanks for driving her home? I know she doesn’t have random sex, she can’t possibly—she was too nervous, she didn’t have any condoms on hand. She didn’t even ask me to come inside, for fuck’s sake. I had to invite myself in—after she shut the door in my face. So no, seducing men or having casual hookups, it’s not something Sandra does with regularity. So the casual goodbye stung, even though I was the one leaving. Even though I was the one who had no intentions of spending the night.
I toss the paper coffee cup I came to work with in the trash next to my desk and stand. I walk down to Sawyer’s office and note that Sandra’s not in yet as I pass her desk, located outside of Sawyer’s office. I shut the door anyway, the click causing Sawyer to look up from the monitor on his desk.
“Hey,” he says in greeting.
“Hey,” I return, walking over to snag a bottle of water from the mini-fridge located in a small built-in kitchenette area along the far wall of his office.
“You didn’t make it back to the party the other night,” Sawyer says, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowed on mine.
“Yeah, no shit,” I respond. “I spent some time with Sandra,” I add when he just stares at me.
“Jesus, Gabe. I told you she’s not that kind of girl.” He sighs at me, actually fucking sighs, and leans back in his chair.
“What kind of girl is that, Sawyer?” I ask, annoyed.
“Temporary. She’s not a temporary kind of girl.”
“Fuck off, Sawyer. She’s a grown woman. Besides, you told me to go for it.”
”No.” He’s shaking his head, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No, I said the opposite of ‘go for it.’ I think I used words like, ‘stay away from her’ and ‘employee.’”
“She’s your employee not mine,” I argue.
“You own thirty-five percent of this company, dumbass, that makes her your employee too.”
I shrug. “Then why’d you text me?” I ask, pulling my cell from my pocket and waving it in his direction.
“When did I text you?”
“New Year’s Eve,” I reply, not bothering to keep the implication that he’s an idiot out of my tone. We both pause then, frowning as Sawyer picks up his phone and I scroll back through mine. I find the text that he sent shortly after I dropped Sandra off. I’d still been on the landing outside her apartment, surprised that she hadn’t invited me in, when my phone had pinged to alert me of an incoming text. Finding it, I verify that I’m not crazy and that it did come from Sawyer, then read it aloud. “‘You lazy fuck, she’s not going to ask you in. Man up and invite yourself. Then take off your pants. See you Monday.’”