Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Laughter effortlessly shakes her beautiful figure, tits bouncing upwards, begging me to steal a glance.
Just one.
So.
I do.
Yet instantly regret it thanks to my dick struggling to swell in confines not meant for that sort of activity.
“You got a marker or what?”
Hesitation precedes her reaching over into the bag to grab one of Bella’s washable coloring tools. “Crayola will have to do.”
“Doneski.” Transferring the item into my possession, I pop the lid off the green and say to my anxious kiddo, “Remember…grownups can write on faces, but little princesses only write on paper spaces.”
More laughter escapes Joey as she mumbles under her breath, “Garbage goal.”
“It wasn’t bardownskie,” I admit during the drawing of forty-two on Bella’s cheek, “but garbage goal is a bit of a stretch.”
“Mm…” she hums her rebuttal while she finishes gearing up, “is it?”
Joeski’s snarky retort has me promptly throwing her a glare and angling my body in her direction. “Your turn.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your. Turn.”
Curling my finger inward to indicate I want her to come closer is initially met by reluctance.
A bite of her plump, painted bottom lip.
A tiny hitch in her breath.
Her body finally drifts nearer allowing me to gently cup her cheek.
Stroke it with my thumb.
Lean forward so that my whispered words can only be heard by her. “I want my number on your body anytime you step foot in this barn, Joeski.” Neither of us breathe again until the action is completed. At that point, I cock my head just enough to capture her bright brown eyed gaze. “Ponyal?”
“Understood.”
“Net.” My thumb delivers another strong yet slow caress. “Na Russkom.”
The woman of my dreams airily purrs, “Ponyal, Ig.”
An uncontrolled, bench shaking growl is given in approval.
Frustration.
Need.
Irritation.
Fuck!
I can’t keep getting this close to her.
Correction on the play.
Shouldn’t keep getting this close to her.
Friendship is one thing.
Friends can forgive friends for little spins on the truth from time to time…like letting you believe you had a job you didn’t actually have because it worked out for both of you.
But fucking is a whole other league.
Fucking a woman you haven’t been totally upfront with is banned from the league type of shit.
And I’d rather be fined, thrown out, or temporarily suspended from being able to have her in our lives than never allowed to have her again.
Quickly clearing my throat occurs prior to rising to my feet and grabbing Bella’s hand. “You ready to hit the ice, Princess?”
“Yayyyy!” she squeals and takes off towards the door.
“Hi, Wookie!” Excitedly greets my daughter as Peck casually skates by. “Hi, Wookie Phone!”
Peck lightly laughs at the same time he skates to a halt. “Hey, Princess Bella!” He squats down to assist her out of the way onto the ice so that Joey can exit too. “This is my future wife Wings.” His adjustment of his device allows her to get a better view. “Can you tell her hi?”
“Hi, Wings!” She shouts into the phone. “Why you not come skate wit us?!”
“Can’t,” the young female on the other end of the phone sweetly replies. “I’m allllll the way in Vlasta.”
“Why?”
“I got very, very sick,” the caramel skinned chick casually explains, “and am not quite better yet.”
“But when she gets all better?” Hope immediately glosses over Peck’s gaze. “She’s gonna come down here to Dalvegan and do all the family skates.”
“Yayyyyy!” Bella claps. “Chustaverat sayboo lunch!”
“Coño!” Wings loudly laughs. “What in the-”
“She was trying to say chuvstvovat' sebya luchshe,” I explain during the taking of my daughter’s hand again. “It means ‘feel better’ in Russian.”
Wings cooing leads Peck to introducing, “This is Princess Bella’s Dad…Our cap.”
“It’s so weird you not being captain,” the woman states on a crooked grin.
“Give him time,” I playfully wink, deliver a good-natured elbow, and begin to move away with Bella who is tugging me along.
Best part about Peck being engaged?
I never have to worry about his ass getting into trouble.
All the rookie does is pracky, train, and stay glued to his phone, texting or talking to her. Unlike others in his position where trouble is literally half dressed around every corner holding coke or a rum and coke, he’s only focused on two things.
Hockey.
And her.
“Come on, Daddy! Fast-” is all that makes it out of her mouth before she slips onto her knees.
Joey immediately prepares to help her up when I shake my head insisting otherwise. “She falls on the ice, she has to pick herself back up.” Watching Bella struggle is much more painful for her nanny than it is for me. “Rink rules, Nanny Joey. Respect ‘em.”
The woman on the other side of my three-year-old swallows whatever emotion she’s battling with and throws up her hands in surrender.
It takes my little ball of energy longer than I anticipated to get back up but once she is, I start singing, “Head…”
She swiftly touches the body part and continues the song that’s intended to assist in teaching children how to find along with maintain their self-balance. As soon as she’s got it, she pushes herself off slightly forward, still singing, using the melody to guide her movements.