Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
My eyes drop to his cock. He chuckles, stepping forward and lifting my chin up, so I’m face to face with him again.
“Not for that, Bunny. For food.”
I step forward, reaching out because I know he wants me, and I wrap my hand around his cock. “You can order, and I’ll have an appetizer.” Dropping to my knees, I stroke his cock, watching as the pre-cum leaves, then I lean forward, licking the top of it, making my tongue dance over his head. He breathes heavily as I take him in as far as I can go and start bobbing my head while one hand plays with his balls and the other pumps the shaft.
“Fuck, Bunny, that mouth.”
I’m wet. Again.
Whiskey’s hand grips my hair. Hard. Then he starts moving me faster and faster until I feel his balls tightening in my hand. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you better move away now.” I don’t move. Instead, I suck harder and faster until he fills my mouth as he continues to fuck it. He lets go of my hair and pulls me to stand.
“Now I need an appetizer.” Whiskey drops, and with one strong hand he lifts my leg over his shoulder and his tongue trails a path to my clit. I fall back on the soft mattress, my hand reaches out to the nightstand, gripping it as his mouth makes delicious circles around my clit and his finger pushes in, fucking me. I’m sore, but his mouth makes me forget all about, makes me forget why I’m even doing this, and making me forget why I have this insane attraction to this man.
One hand finds his hair as my hips thrust to meet him, making him move in the direction I need him the most. His fingers pump hard and fast as his tongue shows me who’s in charge. And believe me, it’s not me.
I come around his finger, and he doesn’t stop until I pull away. When he stands, my leg falls to the floor. “I’m hungry now.”
Whiskey nods to his bed and licks his lips, me evident all over him. “Get into bed, and I’ll order in.” Then he walks out.
I do as he says, and when I lie down, I think of him. And what kind of situation I’ve just put myself in.
Was this a smart move?
My body says yes, but my head says no.
I had a plan to make this man fall in love with me.
But now, that may be harder than I had originally thought.
My phone dings, and in it is an article.
America’s favorite drummer is in the hospital with two broken legs…
CHAPTER 28
WHISKEY
Walking into the room, I find her with her phone in hand and a very pissed off look on her face.
“You had his legs broken?” she screams.
Well, that was fast.
“So, you don’t want fries with your order I take it?” I ask her, she screams and reaches for the photo I have of her next to my bed, it’s my favorite photo, it even trumps the one of my father and me. The way she is half smiling at me in it, has my cock hard. And that dress, was worth every single penny. Fuck, I’d let her buy ten if that’s what she wanted. “Don’t ruin my photo!” she screams and throws it at me, still naked. I would say she looks straight out of a scary movie as she moves toward me. She crawls over the bed, naked, with her hair hanging down at her sides. Let’s be honest, though. I’d still fuck her. To me, even when she’s crazy, I’d still fuck her.
“His legs.”
“Do you think I joke often? You should know by now that when it comes to you, I don’t joke.” I shrug, holding my phone in my hand. “Burger, then?” I ask, placing an order. She reaches me then, grips my phone and pulls it free from my hands.
“I should leave you. You’re crazy. I liked him.”
“Yeah, let’s be honest, he wouldn’t have waited eight months.”
“Six,” she corrects me holding my phone in her hand now to her naked hip.
“I need my phone to finish the order,” I say, nodding to it.
“And I need you to not be so fucked up and hurt people.” I reach for her face and run my fingers down her jaw.
“I don’t plan to hurt you, tonight. Unless you ask.” I wink at her.
Those green eyes go a crazy color as she bares her teeth at me.
“What secret stuff do you have on this phone anyway?” She pulls away and looks to my phone. The lock screen is us, at our wedding. She eyes it then looks up to me.
“For appearances, it’s normal to have your wife.”
“I don’t have you,” she bites back. She unlocks it and opens it; I watch her eyes soften just a little. “When did you take this?” she turns the phone around to the photo I know is already there.