Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Then there’s the upstairs, reached once we take a sweeping staircase to the second floor. There are three bedrooms and two full bathrooms up here, with the largest rooms sitting at the front of the house, overlooking the front lawn and the charming, tree-lined street beyond it. The only piece of furniture in the room so far is a large bed, but there’s plenty of space for everything we might need. I can see myself waking up here in the morning, with the sun streaming in and warming me. Looking at the bed, I can imagine myself lying in Tucker’s arms night after night. I can see building a life here.
“Do you like it?” he asks, standing in the doorway, watching my every move. There’s something so sweet and touching about the way he looks now. Eager to please, almost holding his breath as he waits for me to give my final impression.
“Like isn’t the word,” I whisper, smiling at him from across the bed while my heart swells until I’m sure it will pop like a balloon. “I love it. It’s perfect. But are you sure it’s not too much? I don’t want you to—”
“For once, let me do something for you without giving me all the reasons why maybe I shouldn’t. Besides, this is for us,” he continues. “Me, included. You think I want to live the rest of my life with my parents? They’re nice and everything, but eventually I need to move on. I want to move on with you.”
Looking around, he explains, “This place went up for sale and as soon as I saw it online, I knew it was where we needed to live. It’s close to school, close enough to my parents that we can go over there whenever, and maybe five minutes from Briggs and Wren.”
I’m so overwhelmed, I don’t know what to do with myself. I could laugh, cry, get on my knees and thank him.
“It’s perfect,” I decide. “When do we get to start decorating?”
Laughing, he crosses the room, coming to a stop on the other side of the bed before kicking off his sneakers. “You’re thinking about decorating, while I’m thinking about other things. Like christening.”
All it takes is the mention of the word and the look in his eyes to make my blood simmer. Yes, that’s what I want, too. I want to christen every room, and we can start here, on this bed. I kick off my flats, giggling, and join him on my knees, meeting him in the middle, melting against him when he takes me in his arms and fills my mouth with his tongue while his hands run over my body.
“Our home,” I whisper between kisses, almost like I’m trying to make sense of it. Like I need to help myself believe it.
“Ours,” he confirms, kissing his way down my throat. I let my head fall back, running my fingers through his hair, holding him close. Home. A home of my own, with no ugly memories. It will be full of the memories we make together, the happiness and the good times, friends and family. Nothing shameful, nothing heavy and painful. A fresh start.
The more I think about it, the more I want him, the more my hands shake with need as I pull his shirt over his head and throw it aside so I can touch his skin. When he tugs at the hem of my sweater, I pull it off, and he buries his head between my boobs while I laugh, and we both fall onto the bed.
“Down, boy.” I laugh helplessly while he devours me, unclasping my bra so he can lap and suck at my nipples. It’s a little clumsy, trying to get out of my jeans, but he helps me wiggle out of them so his hands can roam my legs. He skims my scars, but I don’t stiffen in shame anymore. They’re part of me, not all of me. A phase in my life. I wear them as a reminder of how far I’ve come.
Tucker is my future, and right now he’s pressing his thickening dick against my leg and making my pussy hot and wet. It knows what it wants, and it wants him.
“So hot,” he whispers, sliding a hand between my legs to cup me through my thong. All I want is to give myself to him. I never regret it when I do. Not anymore, now that I know I don’t have to act out of fear.
“That’s right, just like that,” I whisper, taking his wrist and pulling his hand closer, tighter against my pussy, moving my hips and rocking them while his tongue strokes mine.
“I’m gonna need to taste this,” he whispers, sending a shiver through me that only gets more intense when he adds, “on my face. Do you think you can sit on my face? Maybe while you suck my cock?”