Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Not here,” I say.
“Why not? There’s nobody around.”
“This is Snow Creek. There’s always someone around.”
“Is Willow down in the salon?”
“No, not today.”
“Then who else would be around? Who else could see us in this parking lot right now?”
“No way.”
He kisses me then—a hard and passionate kiss complete with clashing teeth and sliding lips and mashing tongues.
And I’m ready.
I’m always ready for him.
I break the kiss, breathing rapidly. “Upstairs. Studio.” I grab his hand and pull him through the back door of the salon and up the stairway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BROCK
Rory fumbles with the key in her purse and then has trouble getting it in the keyhole.
I take it from her, have trouble myself, but I’m able to get it unlocked.
I shove the door open.
The studio is a small room, not that I expected it to be huge. An upright piano sits against one wall, and one bookshelf stands against the adjacent wall. It’s filled with what I assume are music books, and more music books are stacked in neat piles against the rest of the wall.
Her bachelor and master of music degrees are framed and on yet another wall.
There’s a piano bench and a small desk with a chair.
Not really anywhere to make love.
But that doesn’t matter.
All I need is a fucking wall.
I’m so hard already, raring to get inside her.
“Take off your jeans, sweetheart.” I unbuckle my belt, unsnap my jeans, and slide them down along with my boxer briefs.
My cock springs out, awake and ready.
Rory flips off her shoes, removes her socks, jeans, underwear. I grab her then, hoist her into my arms, her back against the wall, right next to her music degrees.
I shove my cock into her.
She screams out, and I crush my lips to hers, silencing her.
I pump. I pump hard.
She pushes at my shoulders, breaking her kiss.
“Condom!” she gasps.
“Don’t fucking care.” I slam my mouth back down on hers and continue thrusting.
Do I want a kid? No, I don’t.
Right now? I need to fuck Rory.
I need to feel myself inside her with no barrier. I can feel every ridge, every valley inside her tight pussy. I don’t want to ever wear a damned condom again with this woman.
She feels like heaven. Indeed, heaven can’t feel any better than this place between Rory Pike’s legs.
I plunge, and I plunge.
Will she come? I don’t know, but I—
She grips my shoulders hard, and I feel it.
Her contractions, her moans and screams coming straight into my mouth as our lips are still locked.
Yes, she’s coming, and that’s all I need.
My balls scrunch up, and the contractions begin at the base of my cock. And I—
I pull out. I pull out of her, and my come shoots onto her thighs.
Not what I wanted, not what I was planning, but old habits die hard.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Does she? She’s not smiling, but she’s also coming down from an orgasm.
“We’ll think of something,” I say.
“I don’t like the idea of the pill. I don’t like putting hormones into my body that aren’t meant to be there.”
“I get it. Maybe an IUD?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want a foreign object in me either. And before you say it, no shots and no messy jellies.”
“All right, sweetheart. Diaphragm?”
She nods finally. “Yeah. You have to use spermicide, but only a little. I’ll see my doctor.”
A diaphragm isn’t my weapon of choice, but really, it’s no worse than a condom. It won’t hinder either of our enjoyment of the act except she’ll have to stop and insert it. Same as me stopping to put on a condom.
“Brock…”
“I know. You might be pregnant. When will you know?”
“My period is due in about a week.”
I nod.
And part of me—that part of me that I try to ignore most of the time—almost hopes she is pregnant.
“Bathroom?” I ask.
She nods to the door on the opposite wall.
It, like the rest of the place, is tiny. Just a sink, toilet, and a small shower. She doesn’t have any washcloths, only paper towels.
I moisten one as best I can, bring it back out, and wipe my come from her thighs.
She gets dressed quietly.
“Dinner tonight?” I say.
She nods. “That would be nice.”
“My place?”
“Actually…”
“What?”
“How about my place?”
“Aren’t you staying with your family?”
“Yeah. But…my mom and dad really want to meet you.”
“Rory, we’ve met.”
“I know, but Callie is bringing Donny for dinner tonight, and my mom asked if I’d like to bring you.”
“And you’re just telling me about it now?”
“Yeah. You were gone all morning, Brock. I was going to call you, but…”
“But…what?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. It feels like it’s too soon, in a way. This has happened so fast between us, you know?”
“It has, but it’s kind of great.”
She smiles then, and things seem okay between us once more. “I agree. It’s pretty great, and I’d really like you to come to dinner tonight.”