Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
The fuckin’ excitement that rushed through me would’ve been comical had any of my club brothers been around.
Luckily, they weren’t.
“Yippee!” I cried as I double-timed it to the jeep.
I got there and had to heft myself in, then had to figure out how to get my long, straight legs through the damn door.
I ended up figuring it out, but I was fairly sure that if I needed to get out in a hurry, it would be a problem.
“Let’s drive!” I ordered, strapping myself in.
She smiled and put it in gear.
Then it died.
“Fuck,” she grumbled.
I grinned wickedly at her and said, “Go show me your jobsite. But remember, more gas than you think you need at first.”
She didn’t let it die the second time.
She did miss third gear, though.
• • •
Two weeks later
Recovery was hard.
What was also hard was my cock.
Because I’d gotten my hands on Luce’s Kindle—though she didn’t know that I was reading her books—and now I had access to every single book she’d ever read.
And let me tell you something, the books she’d read definitely got dirtier since we’d been together.
I could see all her old books, ones that had a finish date of months and months ago, had been pretty tame to what she read now.
Let me tell you something. If you wanted an insight into what kind of thing your girl was into, if you were smart, you’d check out her Kindle.
I wasn’t sure what caused me to pick it up.
Call it utter boredom. Call it spying. Call it whatever the fuck you want to call it.
Whatever the reason, I’d picked it up. And now I was addicted.
Sure, while reading them, I knew they weren’t written by a male.
A male, unless he was gay, didn’t call a shirt “pewter.”
He called it black. Or brown. Or yellow. Or red.
There was never any eye to detail, either.
We definitely didn’t notice if a shirt was scalloped or whether it was ribbed or not.
Not to mention, we didn’t describe being inside the vagina as “hot like silk.” Which, might I add, I’d read quite a few times.
We described it as being wet, hot and slick. But personally, I’d never had any hot silk wrapped around my cock, so I’d never be able to compare it to that.
“What are you reading?” Luce asked suspiciously. “A book about a bounty hunter or a game warden wouldn’t have you sweating like that.”
I grinned. “It’s hot out here, baby. We’re in Florida and I have two casts on my legs that make it really fuckin’ hard to regulate my temperature.”
She snorted. “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself getting this done?”
“I’m positive,” I confirmed as I took over the driving of my wheelchair. “Go. Get your site inspection done. I’ll be there when I’m done.”
I’d be driving myself home.
How?
Because today, I finally got the fuckin’ casts off my legs.
Thank fucking God.
It’d been a hard and torturous seven weeks, but I was finally there.
I would be out of these torture devices within the hour.
I’d also be driving myself home in my new Dodge. The insurance had kicked in for the car that Braxton had allowed his ex-girlfriend to borrow. And with that insurance check, I’d put a hefty down payment on the truck.
A rumbling purr pulled up to the curb and I jerked my head at Etienne in greeting.
He gave me a wave, not bothering to take his fingers off the steering wheel of his restored Camaro and waited for my wife—officially not wife, but we liked calling her that because it had a nice ring to it, literally—to give me a kiss goodbye.
She didn’t disappoint, giving me a deep, long kiss that would definitely make my toes curl if I could curl them.
Fuckin’ casts.
“When you get done reading my books later,” she teased, her eyes gleaming. “And your casts are off, I’ll show you my favorite scene.”
I grinned. “At the site?”
The ‘site’ was actually a flattened pile of dirt that was ready to take a concrete pad that would eventually become Luce and Matilda’s new vet clinic.
Things had started to move fast and I imagined that by this time next month, things would be well underway.
Etienne worked fast. He worked faster when he was motivated.
And let me tell you something, the motivation was real when I was paying.
Plus, he’d given me the friend discount. Meaning he put a lot of time and effort into my job when he would normally delegate to his foreman.
“Love you.” She pressed her lips more chastely against my lips one final time before saying, “And let me know if that straw is still there.”
That “straw” was a real straw that I’d used to scratch an itch. That itch had stopped, but I’d lost the straw in the depths of my cast.
Knowing that it was only a few days from then when I got the cast off, I didn’t bother telling the doctor that I’d shoved a foreign object into my cast.