Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“You trying to pound the demons out of my vagina is the best part, though.”
He cringes. “That sounds awful.”
“It doesn’t feel awful. In fact, it feels the opposite of awful. Orgasmic, even.” I use my phone to light up the center console. “Where’s your wallet?”
“In my pocket, why?”
“Because if I’m going to fuck my own hand, I’m going to need that little packet of lube you always carry around with you.”
“How do you know I always carry it with me?”
“I’m assuming. And while I don’t normally do things like that, based on how much time you spend on foreplay, I sense that you probably restocked your wallet as soon as you got home.”
“I actually didn’t restock it right away. In fact, I didn’t restock at all until yesterday when I realized I was running out of time to pick up all the things I needed for tonight.”
I hold my hand out.
“You’re serious?”
“Pass me your wallet and find out.”
He digs in his jacket pocket and passes it over. I flip it open. He has a credit card and a few other cards, in addition to his driver’s license, which tells me his birthday was in early September—just a few weeks after we hooked up in Pearl Bay. In the money pouch is a row of three condoms and a small packet of lube. I fish out the lube and fold his wallet, setting it on the console between us. I kick off my flats and lift my butt, pushing my leggings over my hips and down my thighs. I remove them the rest of the way and drop them on the center console as well, so they don’t get wet from the snow I tracked into the truck.
Maverick pulls off the freeway and follows the darker, lesser-traveled roads that lead to Pearl Bay. I shift around in my seat and set my phone in one of the cupholders, making sure there’s enough illumination from the screen that he has a semi-decent view of my bare legs, without it lighting up the entire interior. I settle in the seat so my back is to the door and my knee rests against the glove box. The other foot I prop up on the center console.
Maverick glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “You still got your panties on, sweetheart.”
“I know.” I slide a hand down the front of my underwear, skimming over my clit.
“I can’t see what you’re doing.”
“I know that too.”
He huffs a laugh and refocuses his attention on the road. But every few seconds he looks back over—just a glance. I run my finger up and down my slit, slipping it in up to the first knuckle, then using my wetness to circle my aching clit. I let my head rest against the window and hum softly.
“Tell me what’s going on over there?”
“I’m getting ready to be stretched by your fat cock.”
His jaw ticks, and his grin turns lascivious. “I can’t wait to fuck all those dirty words out of your sweet mouth.”
“Me too.” I ease my hand out and glance at the road as we pass a sign for Pearl Bay. Only ten minutes away now. I push my panties to the side and ease two fingers in on a low moan.
His gaze darts between me and the road, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white. “Fuckin’ hell, Clover,” he groans.
“Having some regrets about this suggestion?”
His gaze drops between my legs. “Not hardly.”
“Eyes on the road, sweetheart,” I mock.
His lip twitches, but his eyes return to the road. He has to brake a little harder than it seems he expected when the GPS announces our turn is in three hundred feet. The back end of the truck skids, but he regains traction and makes the right-hand turn. We’re just a few miles away now, but the drive in from here is slower, the roads narrower and not lit up at all.
“I’m not going to have a lot in the way of self-control when we get there,” he grinds out.
“Good. I don’t want you to have self-control.” I add another finger, my gaze bouncing between Maverick and the windshield as we slowly make our way over the snow-covered road, down a hill, and around three bends before we reach the driveway to my place, which has been plowed. The cabin comes into view, and I notice the snow has also been shoveled off the front porch, and there are lights on.
As soon as the truck is in park, Maverick hits the release on his seat belt, cranks the back of his seat flat and reaches over to undo my seat belt as well. He hits the interior light, illuminating us. “I want you to finish what you started.”
“The cabin is right there.” I nod toward the front windshield, but push my fingers deeper, lifting my hips, stroking inside, trying to reach my G-spot, but the angle is all wrong.