Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
By the time I’m done imagining each of the scenarios, my panties are damp, and my body is shivery with lust. I’m aching to come again, hungry for the way he made me feel in the closet. Part of that is because orgasms are awesome, but it’s also because when he succeeded in tipping me over the edge, he reassured me that I’m not actually frigid at all.
Having that fact underlined multiple times would be good. Spectacular, actually.
Gabriella messages me at four-thirty with a clock emoji. I respond with a gif of a puppy slowly shaking its head. She sends a laughing emoji back, and then I stick my phone in my bag, pack up my files and laptop and head out of the library.
Maybe she imagines me jumping him after a lecture and dragging him into a restroom. Not my style at all.
Outside, the sun is perfectly warm, settling a yellow glow over the paved quad and imposing buildings. I scan the crowds for anyone I know, but it’s mostly freshmen, as far as I can make out. I’m almost in my car when my phone rings. By the time I fumble for it, it’s close to clicking into voicemail, so I don’t look at the screen before I answer.
“Hello.”
“Ellie.” Mom’s voice is breathy and a little panicked.
“Yeah. I’m okay. Just couldn’t find my phone.”
“Oh, okay,” she says. “Listen. I’ve got a flat, and I can’t make it to drop the refreshments at the school downtown.”
“What school?” I say, confused.
“The one where the triplets are coaching. I was supposed to take the drinks and snacks.”
“That’s a shame.” I rest my bag on the floor, clutching the phone between my shoulder and neck as I search for my keys.
“I need you to go to the closest store, get the stuff, and drop it off. I’m going to send you all the details.”
“Mom,” I whine. “I’ve got too much to do.” Too much that doesn’t involve witnessing my stepbrothers doing altruistic things.
“It won’t take long,” she says. “It’s important. It wouldn’t hurt you to get more involved in some community outreach. The triplets have just as much work as you, and they have football training, too. They still have time to make the world a better place.”
There she goes, highlighting all the amazingness of her golden stepsons and bringing me down in the process. Ugh. The resentment I feel towards them bubbles up all over again. Sighing loudly, I know that saying no will only make her mad and even more disappointed in me, if that’s even possible. “Send me a list,” I say.
“I’m on it.”
Before I get in the car, and without even saying goodbye, mom has hung up the phone.
Perfect.
I wait for the list to come through and pick a store I know will have everything. It’s going to cost a lot, and against all my bubbling angry feelings, I am kind of proud that my family is doing helpful stuff like this.
In the store, I fill a cart with drinks and snacks. It takes me a while to pack it into bags and set it into my trunk, and then I tap the address into my phone so that I can follow directions. The closer I get, the more my stomach feels fluttery. The neighborhood isn’t great, but my nervousness doesn’t come from concern for my safety. It’s the anticipation of seeing Micky and his brothers with the knowledge of what’s going to happen later.
The most brazen dare I’ve ever pulled off.
I drive slowly into the lot next to the field and scan for familiar faces. Colby is working with one group of kids, and Seb and Micky are running drills with another. I sound my horn and wave, catching Micky’s attention. His expression is surprised, and then he jogs in my direction as I exit the vehicle.
“What are you doing here?” he asks when he’s close.
“Bringing refreshments,” I say. “My mom has car trouble.”
When I open the trunk, Micky’s eyes go wide. “Wow. That’s some haul.”
He steps closer to look into the bags, and I get a lungful of the sexiest man smell ever. Oh god. Even sweaty, Micky is lickably gorgeous, and I feel like a sex-starved loon for wanting to get closer and breathe him in.
“Yeah, it’s big,” I say, my mind all foggy from his pheromones and the lingering memory of his cock. Big? What am I even saying? Sweat prickles under my arms as I blush hotter than the sun.
“Yeah,” Micky agrees, sounding confused. When I risk glancing in his direction, one of his dark brows is quirked, and the corners of his mouth are pulled upward.
Shit.
He’s laughing at me.
“So, do you want to take this stuff or not?”
“I do. Can you help me carry it, or shall I call Colby?”
“I can help.”
We each grab two bags and carry them over to a bench at the edge of the field. Colby and Sebastian look up and follow our progress. Micky walks ahead, and I keep my eyes focused on his ass because it’s so goddamned perfect it’s mesmerizing. That ass could crack walnuts. As the powerhouse behind his perfect dick, it could split me in two.