Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
And fucking hell did I want to claim her.
She hadn’t noticed me standing at the front door yet as she carried in two large bags, her focus on the ground. It was only when she stepped onto the porch and lifted her head that she saw me, a small gasp of surprise leaving her. I wanted to take that sound into my lungs.
God, I felt fucking primal when it came to her. And my cock… my damn cock was pressing painfully against my zipper, demanding to get free like it had a mind of its own. What would she think? How would she feel if she knew I jerked off every single fucking night to the picture of her in my bed, spread out and naked, her legs wide open, her pussy swollen and soaked for me?
What would she think if she knew I stroked my dick from root to tip as I thought about burying my face between her legs? As I ate her out until she pressed her thighs on either side of my head and ground her cunt against my face while she came?
Fuck, I needed to quit thinking about that shit or I was liable to come right in my jeans.
I cleared my throat and stepped to the side, giving her leeway and what I was sure was an awkward damn smile. I gave her space to enter, keeping my forearm in front of my crotch so she hopefully didn’t see the raging hard-on I sported.
The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was a pervert waiting to pounce on her as soon as the front door shut.
She started talking business right away, and a part of me wondered if she was nervous. There were telltale signs I made her on edge, but was it for a good reason or bad?
Although I wasn’t paying attention to the actual words she said, but instead to the tone of her voice, the sweet little sound that went in one ear and coated my entire body from the inside out. Shit, I had it bad, and it only got worse—if that was even possible—as soon as she’d been in my presence, in my home.
“I have some work to do in my office. If you need anything, just holler.”
“Okay,” she said softly, sweetly.
I left quickly, but it was damn near impossible to walk with the raging stiffie jammed behind my denim. I looked over my shoulder and said a silent thank you to whoever listened that she wasn’t looking at me. As far as I could tell, Landry hadn’t noticed my evident arousal.
Once upstairs, I thought about pulling my dick out and jerking off real quick, hoping it would tame the beast and give me some relief. But I also knew it probably would have the opposite effect. I’d probably be even more aroused after getting off.
And so for the next several hours, I found myself moving from my office to the landing of the stairs, leaning over the banister and looking over, watching her clean, work. She was in her element, had these little earbuds in I could see peeking out from the fall of her long hair. She’d do a cute little shimmy and shake every now and again. It was adorable, endearing even.
I found myself bracing my forearms on the banister and just leaning against it, feeling a smile form on my lips as I watched her. God, all I wanted to do was go to her, to touch her, hold her. Hell, just tell her how much I wanted her.
Soon though.
Soon, I’d tell her everything. And by soon, I meant before she left my house today.
Chapter Seven
Landry
I’d been at Big’s house for the past five hours, my earbuds in, rock music playing into my ears. And although I kept busy, forced myself not to seek him out, not to look at him, I felt him watching me.
His gaze had been like fingers running over my naked body, and I reacted instantly. My skin felt tight, flushed. My pulse had been racing the entire time, and beads of sweat broke out along my temple. And my body’s reaction had nothing to do with me moving around and keeping active by cleaning.
It had everything to do with how I knew it wasn’t just my imagination that maybe he felt some kind of arousal for me. That or he just people-watched like crazy. But I refused to believe it was the latter. I refused to believe that, because I wanted him too much, had wanted him for so long it had gotten into the possibly obsessive side of things.
No, not obsessive. Love.
But I was okay with feeling these emotions for someone else, because it had this sensation of being alive, constantly moving within me, this hopefulness, this curiosity and wonder, anxiety and need.