Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Brody smiles, nudging me. “You hardly reacted to that that terrible steal by the other team,” he chuckles.
I giggle, shrugging. “Not much. Really, I’m just thinking about how happy you make me.”
The older man’s blue eyes glint.
“Getting sappy on me, sweetheart?”
I merely giggle and squeeze his arm.
“Maybe. Especially after what you did to me last night. That would make any girl incredibly happy.”
After all, Brody rents a hotel room when he’s up for the weekends, and we obviously make good use of it. Actually, there are some weekends when we don’t even leave the room. My man literally rips my clothes off and bends me over the bed the moment I step inside the room, and soon, I’ve got his fluids dripping from every single one of my holes as I moan with pleasure.
But I love it. I love the way Brody makes me feel so desirable and so irresistible. I love how rough he is with me and yet so tender at the same time, and how insanely dominant he can be. Even more, I love getting to go through the rest of the week with that soreness between my legs as a constant reminder of what we did together, and of what I have to look forward to once the next weekend rolls around.
It’s a lifesaver because despite all the crap that’s gone down at Coleman U, I’ve survived in large part thanks to Brody. Don’t get me wrong – I still have my revenge planned, but for now, it’s my boyfriend who’s keeping me sane. Meanwhile, Brody places a large hand on my thigh.
“You make me happy, sweetheart,” he murmurs throatily, his palm squeezing my tender flesh. I giggle as his palm slides a little further up my skirt. “And you look gorgeous today, by the way.”
“You might have already mentioned it a time or two,” I coo. “And don’t get any ideas because people might see…” I look around to make sure nobody’s watching us as he pushes my thighs a little farther apart.
“Let them,” he growls.
“Brody,” I practically moan as he begins kissing my neck. Oooh, hopefully the audience cam doesn’t catch us making out like this because in a matter of moments, I know my man’s going to have his fingers buried in my sweetest spot. But instead, the loud sound of a whistle shrills in the air, and the teams step off the court for halftime as cheerleaders come rushing out. Immediately, I sit up, pushing my man’s hand away.
“Damn, and I was so close too,” he rasps before readjusting himself in his pants. I send him an apologetic look, patting his knee.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I whisper in his ear before pointing toward the court. “But let’s just watch the halftime show right now.”
My man shoots me a surprised glance.
“I didn’t know you were into cheerleading.”
I don’t answer, instead staring intently at the girls bouncing up and down in their red and white uniforms. Sure enough, Katrina and Morgan are present, doing high kicks with fake smiles plastered on their faces as their ponytails bounce.
“See them?” I whisper, pointing a little. “Those are my tormentors.”
Brody squints.
“Hm? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “The brunette and the blonde, right? I thought you said they were pretty.”
“Oh Brody,” I say with a smile as he shrugs.
“I’m just saying, honey. Those girls aren’t attractive at all because they look like idiots with glitter smeared all over their cheeks. Plus, they’re as thin as twigs. You know I prefer your generous shape to sleeping with a popsicle,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist and squeezing my stomach.
I giggle, leaning up to kiss his cheek before staring at him with adoration.
“You treat me so well, Brody,” I murmur. “Mmm, I love it.” Seriously, this is getting sappy. If we were in a cartoon, there would literally be hearts and cherubs fluttering all around us at the moment.
But then, a murmur rises up from the crowd and I smile. The cheerleading squad is still prancing around, most of the girls dancing offbeat as their ass cheeks jounce. To be honest, their routine is hardly a routine because Coleman Cheer isn’t exactly known for its incredible performances. It’s more like a parade of scantily clad hoochies straight out of a teenage boy’s wet dream. The girls wriggle around while bending over and poking their asses out, running their hands all over their bodies, and then doing a high kick now and then in order to show off their barely-covered crotches.
But Morgan and Katrina aren’t doing that. Instead, Morgan’s stock still with a look of horror on her face, while Katrina stumbles around, clutching her stomach.
“Are your friends okay?” Brody asks. “I mean, cheerleaders at least have to move in sync, right?”