Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I rake her from head to foot, taking in her almost see-through white, filmy shirt that she forgot to pair with pants. “How does it work then? When you hear a woman you want say she has a hankering for a baby, seems like the next reasonable step is to go about making that wish come true.”
Her brows crash together. “You want me?”
I point to my obvious hard-on outlined against my jeans.
“I know men.” She shrugs. “You can get an erection from smelling an orange because it reminds you of the first time you had sex or something silly like that.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She closes her eyes for a half second looking like she’s asking the Lord for patience. “Tuck, I said I had a crush on you, but I don’t anymore, and if I was going to ask some random guy to impregnate me, it is not a man who is actively going to fight falling in love with me because he believes he is operating under some kind of curse.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she has more to say.
“If you don’t believe in the curse, then you’re a jerk for waiting all this time, and if you do believe in the curse, I guess you just think I’m going to kick the bucket in five years? I’m twenty-five, and I’ve got a little money and lots of options. I don’t need to settle for a Justice boy.” She jerks her chin. “Stairs are over there. I hope you have a nice life.”
She twirls around, her hair and the skirt of her almost nonexistent dress billowing behind her. I catch her wrist again and drag her hard up against my body. “You had your say, and now it’s my turn.” I crash my mouth against hers, sandwiching her small frame between my hard chest and the teak-lined wall of the walkway. I’m not a man that talks well. All of my cousins are better at that than me, but I’m good with my hands and my body.
I skate my hands up under her barely-there dress to find the smooth skin of her ass, a thin strand of silk nestled between her ass cheeks, and a small triangle of fabric covering a nicely trimmed bush. The silk cord is wet, and she moans as I tug it tight against her pussy. I suck on her tongue and bite her lower lip. She claws at my hair and pulls me closer. I want to sink into her skin, into her body. She’s wet and ready for me. I slide two fingers along the outside of her cunt, reveling in the dewy heat. Soon, it’ll be my cock rubbing against this swollen flesh. Soon, it’ll be my shaft thrusting into the tight depths of her channel.
She wrenches her mouth from mine. Her chest heaves as she draws in deep breaths. “Tuck. Tuck. Tuck Justice.”
Her words finally penetrate the smoke wrapped around my brain. “Whatisit?” I slur like a drunken man.
“We can’t. I’m in the middle of having a party.”
My mouth nudges sheer silk to the side as I seek out her tits. “Seems like everyone there is taken care of. There’s booze, food, some people playing instruments. What more do they need?” The upper swell of her tit appears. I grab her ass and boost her up so that her tits are at eye level. My mouth waters as the silk gapes and her barely concealed breasts are exposed. “Pull your shirt and bra aside, Cam. I want to suck on your nipples.”
“Did you not hear what I said?” She pushes at my hands, wriggling like a caught fish.
“I heard you.” With a heavy sigh, I let her drop to the ground. “You said you wanted to have a baby.” She looks deliciously disheveled. Her skin’s pink from her cheeks to her chest. I want to kiss her all over, so I take a step toward her, but her hand comes up.
“Yes, but I didn’t say with you, did I?” She gives me a challenging look, the kind that says I dare you to step over this imaginary line. I slam a hand down on the wall next to her head.
“You have that baby with any other man and you’re signing his death warrant. That man will not live to see tomorrow. This”—I cup one ripe breast—“belongs to me.”
She grows still, her eyes pinned on my hand as if mesmerized by how my thumb is rubbing its way from one side of her breast to the other, passing underneath the protruding eager nipple. “One day, milk’s going to come from here, and that milk is going to feed my baby and no one else’s.” I give the nipple a hard pinch before levering myself away from her. “You might as well get used to the idea.”