Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“You want me to fuck you right here with your brothers in the other room?” His hand glides up my thigh and under the bottom of my shorts and panties, landing right on the hood of my pussy. “Fine,” he murmurs, leaning over and slamming the door. Subconsciously, I know this is a very bad idea, but my hormones and jealously have taken over, and I just want to feel Lachlan inside of me.
He pulls my shorts and underwear down and then yanks my body so I’m sideways on the chair. He unbuckles his pants and pulls his dick out, stroking it a few times to get it hard.
“Flip over, baby,” he commands. I do as he says, flipping onto my stomach and spreading my legs so my ass is in the air and I’m open for him. “Jesus,” he growls. “This ass.” He slaps my ass cheek and then pushes into me from behind.
Entwining his fingers into my hair, he yanks my head back and drives into me before he pulls back out. “Fuck, you’re so tight. We’re going to have to make this quick,” he groans. “Rub your clit, baby.” I bring my hand down to my clit and do as he says as he sinks back inside of me oh so slowly.
“Fuck me harder, please,” I beg, needing more. And with another hard smack to my ass, Lachlan starts to fuck me deep and fast. His piercing is nudging and stroking my insides, and it feels so freaking good. His lips find my shoulder, and he bites down hard. All too quickly, my orgasm slams into me. My legs shake, and my head lands on the edge of the cool leather seat. I ride out every wave of my orgasm as Lachlan finds his own release.
With his dick still inside me, he leans forward and whispers into my ear, “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and whatever the fuck you need from me to understand that, I’ll always give you. Even if it means I have to fuck the jealousy right out of you.”
Nineteen
Quinn
I’ve changed my outfit no less than a dozen times. Since Lachlan refused to tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing, I have no clue how to dress. I haven’t been on a real date in years—since a year after Kinsley was born and I attempted to date, only to quickly realize I wasn’t anywhere near ready.
It’s the first week of November, and a small cold front has come through, so I decide on a pair of dark blue ripped skinny jeans, a mauve off the shoulder sweater, and a pair of black heels. I figure with the heels, I can at least look a little dressed up if we’re going somewhere nice. After straightening my hair, I grab my purse and head downstairs. It’s so weird living here without Jax and Willow, but I also love having my own place. I would feel bad about them leaving if they weren’t now living in a super gorgeous condo only a few blocks away from their shop.
There’s a knock on the door, and since Kinsley left a little while ago with Willow and Jax, it has to be Lachlan. After applying a smidge of lip gloss, I swing the door open to find the most stunning man standing on my front stoop. His hair is messy as usual, but his beard has been trimmed so it’s short and neat, exposing a bit of his chiseled jaw. He’s dressed in a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up, showing off the intricate tattoos that cover his forearms, and jeans that mold to his muscular thighs. And in place of his signature Vans, he’s sporting wheat-colored boots.
When he clears his throat, my eyes swing back up to meet his sea-foam green eyes, and that’s when I notice he’s holding a gorgeous bouquet of white, pink, and purple flowers. My heart thumps rapidly against my ribcage as I take in the man in front of me—the man I was hellbent on not giving a chance to in the beginning because of something as stupid as our age difference. Who has turned out to be everything good in my life, giving me the confidence I never thought I would find again. Reminding me every day of how beautiful I am. Loving my daughter as if she’s his own. And I know in this moment, I have hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Lachlan Bryson.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he says, his eyes remaining locked with mine. “These are for you.” He hands me the flowers. “They’re Gillyflowers,” he says, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks almost embarrassed. “The florist said they mean happy life.”
“You asked what the flowers meant?” I bring them up to my nose and inhale the fresh scent of them. I’ve never been given flowers before.