Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
She laughed, the vibrations shot along the length of my cock as it poured into her. “You’ll be all right,” she said on a satisfied sigh.
I lay there on her like that for a long minute, inhaling her scent and relishing the feel of her soft, slick skin against my own. “It keeps getting better,” I said, wonder in my voice.
“It does,” she sighed and flipped on her back when I was finally able to roll off of her. “It’s maddening.”
My chest heaved and I turned to face her, resting my head in my hand. “Why?”
“Because you don’t want any more than this, which means we won’t always have this.” She motioned between us before sitting up and looking around the room as if she didn’t know where she was. “I need to get cleaned up.”
I watched the way she walked so confidently to her private bathroom. “Toni?”
She looked over her shoulder, the light of the bathroom cast her in a golden glow. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t opened up.”
She nodded, but her gaze darted all around me, anywhere but on me, in fact. “It’s all right Brady. You’re not the first man who only wants me for sex.” Toni flashed a sad smile and shook her head. “I’m a big girl and I wanted this too. I wanted you.”
My brows rose. “Wanted? Past tense?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tonight. I wanted you tonight just like this. I know what you want and don’t want, and I still wanted you. Okay?”
I didn’t know what to say to that so I just nodded. But when she closed the door behind her I couldn’t help but feel like that was the wrong answer.
Worse, I was pretty fucking sure it was also a lie.
Chapter 22
Toni
Iwas an idiot.
That was the only excuse for why I continued to go against my better judgment and spend any time at all with Brady. Yeah, sure, he was gorgeous and nerdy, and so hot it set my panties on fire, but he was also aloof. Mistrustful, and even more cynical than I was. It wasn’t a good combination for, well anything, really.
The worst part? I was developing feelings for my nerdy boss. He’d somehow snuck past my defenses without even trying, making me open up and feel things I thought I was long past feeling. He’d made me feel things when he refused to feel anything but orgasmic, which made the past week pretty damn tense.
And erotic because Brady was a revelation. The man was insatiable, sneaking up on me in the kitchen pantry for a quickie where he shoved down my pants, took me from behind while he left love bites all over the back of my neck and shoulders. He slipped into my room well after Layla had gone to sleep for the night and took me to the heights of ecstasy before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was like a never ending dream sequence with fog around the edges of my vision and I was trapped into this beautiful time and place where nothing mattered but me and Brady. The things we did to each other and how we made one another feel.
It wasn’t real but it was beautiful and kind of perfect.
A week of nonstop orgasms and pleasure was almost enough to make me forget that this wasn’t building up to anything else. There was no obstacles to us being together other than the simple fact that it wasn’t what Brady wanted. I couldn’t change it and no matter how much I wanted to try—and I really fucking did—I knew it wouldn’t change anything.
So I lived in limbo for more than a week. A sweet, beautiful limbo where I didn’t think about the past or the future and simply lived in the present. I pretended that I didn’t want more and that this wasn’t going to blow up in my face spectacularly, and I just took what was given—and a little bit more—and wished it was exactly what I always wanted.
And in a way, it was. I was always a little different but when it came to my parents’ social circle, I couldn’t have been more different than my peers. Sure I liked a few designer brands but I was just as likely to pair them with thrift store finds. I didn’t care about name brands so much as I indulged in what I liked regardless of cost, but with them it was all about one upmanship. And the guys? Well they weren’t looking for a curvy loudmouth who had no desire to be molded into the perfect trophy wife, which left me to my own devices.
But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about someone who saw me and saw beauty and authenticity. A man who saw that I was gruff and brash but also willing to help anyone in a bind whether it was backup in a fight, a pep talk or a kick in the ass. There was more to me than wild red hair, killer curves and leather pants. But so far, no one wanted more than getting into those leather pants.