Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Fuck, this is going to take an act of God to keep me away from Taylor, and I’m not sure I’m that strong enough. I made a promise to Travis, one I know I’ll keep. I’d do anything to keep her safe, but who is to say I can keep her safe from me?
“Hey?” I’m gripping the kitchen counter, trying to talk some sense into myself when she places her hand on mine. “I’ll listen, I swear. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it, Slade. I don’t want to be any more of a burden on you than I already am.”
“You’re not a burden. Come here.” I hold my arms open for her. This is more for me than her, but I bring her into my arms. She loops her arms around my neck and my hand glides to her hips while I lean down into her body. The way her breasts feel pressed against my chest, how she hums her approval, and when she borrows herself into the crook of my neck, I know I’m a fucking goner. Consequences be damned, Taylor was always meant to be mine, and I’m going to fucking claim her.
“How about we order some dinner from Crave tonight?” I say as we pull apart.
“That sounds so good. I haven’t had their Philly cheesesteak sub in so long,” she groans, giving me all kinds of ideas of how she’ll respond to my lips on hers, my tongue licking her pussy, and my cock buried deep inside her.
I clear my throat and silently cuss my raging cock that’s about to bust the zipper from just a hug.
“I’ll get it ordered and then take your bags up this time.”
“How about I order our dinner while you do that, or I can bring my bags upstairs?”
“You order. I’ll do the heavy lifting.” I throw my wallet on the counter. “Card is in my wallet, and Taylor?”
“Yes?” Her eyes dart from my wallet to my face.
“Use my card, Taylor.”
“I’ll get right on that, Mr. Bossy Pants. But what would you like me to order for you? Because, you know, that would be a helpful hint.” That mouth of hers is nothing but trouble. The ideas on how I can keep it busy are endless.
“I’ll take the ‘Q Sammich’ and heavy on the sass,” the way her face flushes, I wink at her and tap the kitchen counter before heading out to grab her bags for her.
SIX
TAYLOR
We ate dinner together at his breakfast bar, both of us laughing our asses off until my yawning became uncontrollable. Slade and I picked up our mess, then we went our separate ways. He veered off to his home office, while I went upstairs to shower and head to bed.
The bedroom he put me in is nicely decorated, if not a little plain. The walls are painted a light grey. The furniture matches in its dark wood tone, and the bedding is white and just might be the most luxurious I’ve ever laid on. I bypass the bed this time, remembering lying on it when Slade brought me up here earlier.
I unpack my toiletries first, wanting to get out of my work clothes and wash this day away, then maybe I can sleep. I didn’t tell Travis or Slade, but this has worried me a lot more than I let on, making it to where sleep has been come and go, my saving grace being a great concealer to hide the dark circles. When tomorrow comes though, there will be no hiding them. One thing I refuse to do is wear makeup on the weekends. Those are my days to be a bum on a log—comfortable clothes, messy hair, and a clean face. I make quick work of unpacking my toiletries, then go back out to the bedroom to place my clothes in the long dresser that’s in the room. It may have seemed like I was messy when packing my clothes, but truth be told, I’m a bit of a neat freak. As I take my clothes out of the suitcase, I refold them and then place them in the drawers.
When that’s finally done, I grab my pretty satin nightgown with matching panties, walk into the bathroom, and finally get into the shower. The hot water beating down on my tired bones invigorates and soothes me all at once. My thoughts go back to Slade—how he held me, the way our bodies seemed to gravitate so seamlessly together, it has me thinking about what it would be like to be Slade’s, forever.
My body comes alive at the thought. Knowing I need to quit this way of thinking, I finish scrubbing my body before turning the water off.
“Don’t even go there,” I mumble to myself as I dry myself off, then slather lotion on my body before sliding into my pajamas. I finish up my routine, turn off the lights, and then climb into a bed that isn’t my own. If I’m lucky, maybe they’ll have Slade’s scent on them; the smell of citrus, spice, and the undercurrent of juniper berries. It’s enough to have me eternally moaning in pleasure.