Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“You’re driving me crazy down there, you know that?”
“I know.” Without breaking eye contact, I wrap my lips around him again.
The moan he chokes out is the most satisfying sound I’ve ever heard.
“You have no idea how many times I got myself off thinking about this,” he says.
My heart thumps harder. I suck faster.
His hips move restlessly as he starts thrusting into my mouth, trying to go deeper. When he goes a bit too deep, I cough and release him, my eyes watering.
“Sorry,” he says weakly.
“S’okay.” I lick my lips and resume what I was doing, laying one hand on his thigh. His muscles quiver beneath my palm.
It doesn’t take long before he mumbles, “Casey…I’m gonna come,” and then slides out of my mouth and takes his dick in hand.
My throat goes dry and my pussy throbs as I watch him stroke himself to climax, spilling onto his stomach. I don’t think I’ve seen anything hotter.
Satisfied with myself, I crawl back up his body. Cool, fresh air fills my nostrils when I emerge from our cocoon, and I suck in a deep breath. I reach for the box on the nightstand to grab a handful of tissues, which Fenn uses to clean up before he throws the wad in the wastebasket next to my desk in an impressive toss that meets its target. Then he curls his arm around me and captures my lips in a blistering kiss. His hand skims down my body and inside my panties. When he feels how wet I am, he opens his eyes and grins at me.
“That turned you on,” he murmurs.
“Uh-huh.” In fact, I’m wound so tight that it takes him less than a minute to bring me to orgasm with his fingers. I bite into his shoulder and rock into his hand as release washes over me in sweet ripples of pleasure.
Once my heart has settled in my chest, I straighten out my rumpled PJs. “Do you want to meet Silver?” I ask, feeling oddly shy. “I rescued her from a fox last week.”
I see him smiling in the darkness. “Love to.”
Gently, I set the shoebox on the bed and remove the lid. Inside, Silver is sound asleep in her snug nest, her tiny body burrowed in her towel.
Fenn sits up to take a peek, his features softening. “Damn. That’s adorable.”
Smiling, I rub my index finger over her grayish-brown fur. My gal is no longer blind, deaf, and furless. She’s starting to look more like a rabbit and less like an alien.
“She opened her eyes a few days ago. And her ears have perked up.” I bite my lip, worry gnawing at me. “She still seems so weak, though. I called this wildlife place the other day, and they said she shouldn’t really be moving around until she’s two and a half, three weeks old. But it seems like she hardly moves at all.”
“How long do you plan on keeping her?”
“If she lives, I’ll probably release her in a couple weeks. They usually leave the nest at three or four weeks. But I’ll need to wean her first. I plan to do that soon.”
“But if you release her, won’t another fox just eat her up? She’s so tiny.” With considerable care, he strokes Silver’s head.
“She might look small and helpless, but if she’s healthy and can hop, she’s meant to be out there on her own.” I shrug. “The world is scary, but you can’t avoid living in it.”
“Are we talking about bunnies or humans?”
“Both.”
I close the lid and place the box back on the nightstand. I scoot closer to Fenn, resting my head against his shoulder. He tucks the blanket around our lower bodies, and we sit there for a while. Silent. Pensive. It’s four in the morning and the house is eerily quiet.
“You wouldn’t let me out of the car.”
He tenses. “What?”
“In my nightmare.”
There’s a long silence. Then, “Oh.”
“I’m stuck in the seat, the water’s getting higher, and when I see you, I’m relieved. Then I realize you’ve got me trapped and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Yeah, that’s not great.” His voice is strained. “But I understand. I think.”
“I don’t blame you for the accident.”
“Right, but you do blame me.”
I suppose we’ve never acknowledged it in those terms.
“And that’s totally fine,” he says. “Understandable. I’m not mad at it.” He sighs, flustered. “You know what I mean.”
“Everyone kept telling me that if I could remember more about that night, it would help. I could start to move on. Then I find out about you and…”
“It only made it worse.”
Cataclysmically worse. The foundation of months of recovery shattered by the most profound betrayal anyone could have inflicted on me.
“Because now I’m stuck. I can’t forget and I can’t move on.” I hesitate. “I went back to my shrink the other day. She helped me remember something.”