Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
She narrows her eyes.
“See, here’s the thing.” I lightly drag my fingertips along her slender arm. I’m not touching bare skin, yet she visibly shivers. “My buddies think you’re Little Miss Innocent. They warned me you’d be intimidated by someone like me. Someone rough and crude. But you know what I think?”
“What?” Her voice is breathy.
“I think you like rough and crude.” Once again, I lean in closer. She’s wearing a tiny diamond stud, and I can’t help but flick the tip of my tongue over the little earring.
There’s another sharp intake of breath, and I feel a tug of satisfaction.
“I don’t think you’re innocent at all,” I continue. “I don’t think you’re a good girl. I think that right now you want nothing more than to shove your tongue in my mouth and rake your nails down my back and let me fuck you right here in front of everyone.”
She moans out loud.
The cocky grin is just spreading across my face when she grabs the back of my head and yanks me down for a hard kiss.
“You’re right,” she murmurs against my lips. “I’m not a good girl at all.”
My dick is hard before her tongue even enters my mouth. And when it does, sliding through my parted lips, it’s my turn to moan. She tastes like gin and sex, and I kiss her back hungrily, all the while aware of the loud catcalls surrounding us. I’m sure some of those yells are coming from my stockbroker friends, but I’m too busy to bask in their amazement.
As my tongue slicks over hers, I gently nudge one leg between her soft thighs. Letting her feel how hard I am.
“Oh my God,” she mumbles. She breaks the kiss, her eyes gleaming with pure lust. “Let’s get out of here and finish this somewhere private?”
“No. I want you now.” My voice sounds like gravel.
She blinks. “Now?”
“Mmm-hmmm.” I rest one hand on her slim waist, moving my palm in a teasing caress. “I hear the ladies’ room has real big, private stalls…”
She presses her own palm to the center of my chest. Not to push me away, though. She teases me too, while her hot gaze roams the length of my body. Then she slants her head and asks, “What would your girlfriend say about that?”
I give her a dirty smile. “She’d say…hurry, John, I need to come.”
Grace moans again.
“That’s what I thought,” I mock, but my girl doesn’t look fazed.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe she was once that nervous, babbling freshman whose dorm I accidentally wound up in. That the sweet Grace Ivers I fell for is this fearless woman in front of me, the sexy vixen who’s about to let me fuck her in the bathroom.
Granted, Grace picked this bar and researched the cleanliness situation of the bathrooms before agreeing to tonight’s roleplaying exercise. So, yes, she’s still that weird girl I met years ago. She just also happens to be my hot, sex-starved girlfriend.
I take her hand and pull her off the stool. I’m still hard as a rock and in need of relief. Judging by her shallow breathing, she’s as aroused as I am.
“So what do you say?” I ask, rubbing the inside of her palm with my thumb.
Grace stands on the tips of her high-heeled boots and presses her lips to my ear. “Hurry, John, I need to come.”
I swallow a desperate laugh as I follow her toward the rear corridor. Before we pass the doorway, I toss a final glance over my shoulder. The stockbrokers are gaping at me as if I’m an alien from another planet. I gesture to the money on the bar and offer a gracious nod as if to say, Keep it all.
I don’t need to win some stupid bet. I’m already the luckiest man in the bar.
2
Logan
“You really didn’t have to do this,” Grace’s father insists as I drop the hood of his SUV back in place. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I feel like a real goofhead for making you do manual labor on Christmas Eve.”
Dragging a clean rag over my chin to wipe a streak of motor oil off, I try my hardest not to laugh. I like Tim Ivers a hell of a lot, but there’s something very disconcerting about a grown man who uses words like “goofhead.”
In the four years I’ve been dating his daughter, I can count on one hand the times I’ve heard the man curse, a drastic contrast to my own upbringing. I grew up with an alcoholic father whose every other word was an expletive. My poor mom once had to come in for a meeting with my kindergarten teacher because I’d called another kid a “fucking shit-face.” Oh, those were the days… The very bad, unhappy days.
Luckily, everything’s changed since then. My dad has been sober for nearly four years, and although we haven’t completely mended fences, at least I don’t hate him anymore.