Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“You’re trying to kill me. I once again can’t feel my legs.” I’m greeted with a grin. His hands slide to my waist, pulling me until I’m closer to the edge of the bar. It takes all my might to maintain my balance while not giving Griff my weight with his shoulder in a sling.
“Are you saying you don’t want my cock?” He arches a brow. I shake my head in a vehement no. “That’s what I thought. I’ll help you down. Grip my good shoulder.” He guides me down, his length already out and ready, the head of his cock weeping with precum. I almost wish we had more room. I’d dip my head and take it with my tongue.
“Can I help?” I ask Griff, my hand wanting to wrap around his dick to guide inside me while I continue lowering myself.
“Yeah, baby girl, wrap your hand around daddy’s cock until the tip is inside, then hands to yourself.” His dominant side is always at the surface, but when it’s the two of us like this, there’s no holding himself back. My hand wraps around his smooth velvet length. Feeling it flex causes me to squeeze it once. “Fucking Christ,” he groans. My knees meet the leather of the barstool, old fashioned style where they have a back and a seat big enough to allow us the room to be in our current state.
“Daddy.” I do more than what he stated, coating his tip with my wetness. A low groan escapes.
“Hands off. Wrap them around my shoulder and hold the fuck on. You know what I like, baby girl,” he reiterates. His hands hold my hips, and I barely have enough time until he’s slamming me down and fucking his cock inside of me. All I can do is hold on and enjoy every moment with Griff taking me exactly how we like it.
29
STORMY
“Hey, Kitty, I’m out of here.” It’s been a few days since the night at the bar. After Griff had his way with me, we went home, where we talked and talked. Griff wasn’t having me working more, and honestly, he was right. Another swallow of my pride was admitting that I needed help. I put the ceremony on my credit card, paid off what I could with what was in my savings account, and Griff said he’d handle the rest. Mom wouldn’t let me give her the deposits back, which meant I had more to pay on my credit card. That was a fight for another day. My will to deal with much more was lackluster at best.
“Have a good rest of your day. See you tomorrow, honey.” I grab my purse from my chair after a successful day. My books are open to a few new clients, not only for the money either. Which Griff said I don’t need, but tell that to my independence. It worked out in the end, though. I lost a few clients, Melissa being one of them. It goes without saying I fired her from my book. Then another moved in with her family a few hours north, and another went back to college for the fall semester. That left me with room for three plus a few more while keeping my same hours. The plan to work weekends while Griff is away is now obviously out the window.
“You do the same.” I walk out the door, ready to get home before Griff has to leave for work. Maybe we’ll have enough time to eat dinner together, or he could stay home. I’m in the middle of devising a plan, like walking in the house, taking off all my clothes, and finding him. Another idea is putting the outside shower to use, changing into one of my bikinis, then finding Griff on the beach with Finn. I’d lure him into the water, tease him for as much as he’d allow before darting back up to the house. Of course, I couldn’t strip like I could inside the house. Griff would lose his ever-loving mind, and I’m not interested in giving the beach goers or our neighbors a peep show.
“Stormy,” I hear my name, but no one would be trying to get ahold of me. Kitty had a client, Mom has a date tonight, and Aunt Cat is out of town doing a solo vacation in the mountains. Now that things have settled down, they’re finally doing their own thing. “Stormy, wait, please!” Okay, not hearing things. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
I don’t want to stop walking. I’d much rather keep going. My car is in sight, and I’m almost scot-free. “Hold on just a minute, Stormy, please.” I close my eyes, stopping my stride, refusing to turn around. Melissa is going to have to realize not everything will go her way.