Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I grip his hair when his tongue flicks where I want him and push his face against me. He chuckles but does as I request of him, causing a long, low moan to leave my chest. His mouth is as good as I remember. He licks, nibbles, and plays with me until he inserts a finger, then another. Soon, I’m not sure if my legs can hold me up a second longer. As soon as I feel the orgasm building, I let go of his hair and find my breast, squeezing the nipple hard.
His other hand that was on my ass slides between my cheeks and pushes in. Two fingers in each hole and a mouth that knows how to please.
A scream rips from me, and before I can collapse, Joey catches me. I try to calm my breath in his arms, still shaking from my release. Then, when I feel steady enough, I push off of him. Looking around, I see his shirt and reach for it, sliding it over my shoulders and then slipping on my panties. All the while, his stare penetrates the back of me.
“Adora.”
I ignore him, buttoning up his shirt and running my hand down my hair to fix it. Walking to the door, I grab the handle. When he comes up behind me, his cock is still hard and presses into my back.
“Darling.” Shivers rack my body at that word. Oh, how I begged to hear him call me that, exactly like that, for the last month.
“Go and fuck your blonde, Joey.” I pull the door open and walk down the stairs.
Lucas and the blonde are waiting when I reach the bottom step. “He’s all yours.” I turn back around to see him with a towel around his waist and a look of anger written all over his face.
I may pay for that.
But it sure as shit was fun to do.
“Um… you can’t go to Ms. Rossi’s like that,” Lucas says as we get to the car.
“Just drive. I’ll change.”
“Fucking hell. How am I meant to explain to Chanel you were naked in my back seat?”
“I’m not naked.”
“You better not be. I want to get laid too, you know.”
I pull on a pair of jean shorts and keep Joey’s shirt, tying it up at my waist. But when I look through the back window, I see no sign of him.
I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
FOURTEEN
JOEY
“Who was that?” Simone asks as I shut the door. Fendi comes running up to me, and I pick her up. She looks at the dog. “And when did you get a dog?”
“That was my wife,” I tell her.
“You have a wife?” she balks. “Oh my God, why did you not tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I don’t fuck with married men, Joey.”
“We aren’t fucking,” I remind her.
Her hands fly up in the air. “So why am I here?”
“I need you to look after the dog.”
She shakes her head. “And you really had no one else to ask other than me?”
“You just so happened to be there, so I figured—”
“No, you did not figure. You hardly thought.” Her head won’t stop shaking as she processes what just happened, and I smile.
“You’ll love her.” I offer her the dog, and she takes her easily. Immediately, the dog starts licking Simone, and she smiles. “See, you love her already, don’t you?”
“I thought you invited me back because—”
“I never brought you here,” I remind her.
“Yes, true…” She looks down at the dog again, pursing her lips. “I always thought that something more would happen between us, but I knew you were always waiting for her,” she whispers. “You said the first night, ‘one day I will be married. This can be nothing more than fucking.’”
“It was some good fucking, Simone.” I smile.
“Yeah, it was. But you never really tried with me. I wonder, did you try with her?” She walks to the door, the dog cradled in her arms. I don’t respond.
“I can only watch her for the weekend. I have plans next week.”
I nod. “I can pay you,” I tell her.
“No, it’s okay. You know I don’t mind at all.” I hand her the bag I had packed, and she takes it.
“My car will take you home.”
“Joey.”
“Hmm…”
“You should try. Adora cares for you. And you care for her. Just try.”
I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Goodnight, Simone.” She walks out with the dog, waving to me once she’s getting into the car to leave.
“Who was that?” Abigail asks, walking up the stairs. She looks up at me and glances at my towel. Her hand holds heels, and her face is smeared with makeup.
“You’re moving out,” I tell her, and her mouth drops open. “I’ve packed your things.” I hand her a bag, but it falls to her feet when she fails to grab it. “That car…” I nod to the car waiting at the curb, “… is ready to take you. You are staying at a hotel for a month. After that, you will have to work it out. You are not my responsibility any longer.”