Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
I amble through her front door, unlocking the cabana and stepping out to her backyard. She’s sprawled over a sun lounger, a gym towel thrown over her face. Holy shit, her tits are just insane. Pear shaped, with the tiniest, little, pink nipples.
Feeling vindictive—not to mention ruthlessly horny—I grab the ice-cold bottle of water next to her and squirt it all over her tits.
She yelps, jumping to her feet and ripping the towel from her face. “Oh my Marx! Lev, what the hell?” She’s running around in circles, her skin full of goose bumps.
“My bad. You looked hot.” I pull her into a one-arm hug, her diamond-hard nipples pressing against my muscle shirt. “Still do, though.”
“Get off of me!” She squirms, pushing me away. But this is the first time we’ve talked since the Thalia fiasco, and I’m not letting her run away.
I step into her personal space, backing her up against the side of her house. Her bare back hits a wide window. We’re flush against each other. I pin my arms on either side of her shoulders. Her tits are bouncing with her labored breaths and I can’t decide if I want to devour her or punish her for what she’s doing to herself. My feelings for her just got a whole lot more complicated.
“Been busy, Bails?” My mouth is so close to hers I can almost taste her. And I want to. Fuck, I want to. The new her. The old her. I’ll take any version she is willing to give me.
“Not as much as your dick, apparently.” She flashes a snarky smile.
If I were an optimist, I’d think she is jealous. Because I’m a realist, I know the reason why Bailey is bitter about Thalia is because she wants to mommy me to death and know everything about my life. Thalia caught her off guard.
“Really, Bails. If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask.”
She barks out a choked laugh. “Not if you were the last guy on planet earth.”
“Sure about that?” My eyes glide over her upper body, halting on her tits. Her nipples are rosy and hard and begging to be tugged. Her breasts swollen, her back arched to try and touch my pecs. “I could swear you’d let me suck this tit whole if I wanted to.”
She licks her lips, her gaze dropping to her feet. If she can even see them behind my mammoth erection that’s poking into her stomach. She is defiant but also interested. Problem is, I think the version of her that’s interested is also the version who’d suck me off for a Xanax prescription. And it’s breaking my fucking heart.
“What do you say, Bails?” I run the back of my fingers along her rib cage, going north.
Her breathing picks up. She doesn’t slap my hand away. My mouth is dry. I want this, but I also know I shouldn’t do this. I stop when my index is almost at the curve of her breast. We’re staring at each other silently. She is there on a silver platter. All I have to do is have my fill.
“Should I?” I whisper.
The tiniest nod. Barely visible. But I see it.
It takes everything in me to pull away and shake my head. “Jesus, Dove.”
That makes her angry, and she stomps on my foot, all hundred and fifteen pounds of her, trying to push me off. “Oh, screw you.”
I don’t budge an inch. I am huge and she is little. Physics isn’t her friend.
“What are you on, Dove?”
“Nothing, but you’re currently on my nerves, so get off my case.”
“You need to go to rehab. Just because you aren’t using doesn’t mean you’re yourself.”
“I am myself.” She pushes me again, her eyes glinting in rage. “It’s just a side of me I tucked away to make sure I fit into everyone else’s life. Well, everyone can suck it.”
“If you’re sober, you wouldn’t mind going to rehab.” I bump my chest against hers, losing my patience. “Fess up or I swear to God, I’m ripping this entire house upside down to find your stash.”
“Ew. Say it, don’t spray it, Lev.”
Lev? I’m Lev now?
She wipes imaginary spit from her face. “Took a leaf out of Vaughn and Penn’s book? Trying your hand at being a big, bad bully?” She goads me, her eyes, blue like a frozen lake, narrow on mine. They’re full of contempt. “I don’t wanna hang out with your ass. Deal with it.”
“You really that butthurt over the Thalia thing, or are you just out of your mind because you’re always high?” I push her back, and we’re both close to the edge of the pool.
“I’m not!” It’s her turn to push me. “I don’t care.”
“You don’t have to worry about Thalia.”
She is frantic, but that seems to hold her attention. “Why?”