Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
For him.
He laughs against my mouth. “I knew I was good, but not that good.”
“You called the universe she,” I pant.
“The feminine”—he licks into my mouth—“is divine.”
I dig my hand into the hair at his nape and give hit a tug. “So is the masculine.”
He puts his hands on my hips and presses me down on his erection.
“Ask me to make you yell God’s name, Legs.”
I get butterflies at the old nickname. “Please.” I roll my hips, pussy throbbing.
“No.” His mouth moves to my neck. My head falls to the side to give him more access. “But I’ll make you yell mine.”
fifteen
Riley
Pussy Magnet
I grab Lu’s hand and suck the pad of her thumb into my mouth. Flavor explodes on my tongue: spice, sea, skin.
“That is good.”
Her eyes are a little hazy when she replies, “The shrimp? Or me?”
“Both.” I drop her hand and nod at the plate between us. “Now eat.”
She goes for her second shrimp, then takes a hunk of bread and swirls it in the pool of buttery sauce on the plate. Putting it in her mouth, she closes her eyes and moans as she chews.
Sylvan Esso plays softly in the background. Part of an Indie Rock playlist featuring my all-time favorites. Tom, after I let him out of his crate, is—where else?—at our feet, begging for scraps.
“That is good.”
“You made it. Probably from scratch, right?”
She grins. “Yes.”
“Means it’s fucking delicious.”
My cock thickens, despite fucking Lu not twenty minutes ago on the sofa across from the table we’re sitting at.
She chews slowly. Savoring the bite.
Makes me think she hasn’t enjoyed food this way in a while.
The fact that she’s allowing herself to enjoy it with me makes my chest swell.
And yeah, the sight of her tits is no hardship either.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Lu Wade is eating dinner in my kitchen. Naked. Just-fucked hair everywhere.
The hungry, haunted look she had in her eyes when I first saw her yesterday is gone.
Replaced by satiation.
Pleasure.
The soft feeling in my chest migrates to my stomach. Floods my skin.
Fuck.
Fuck, she’s got me in deep.
Less than forty-eight hours since she tripped and fell into my arms, I really am falling for this girl all over again.
Head first.
Yeah, this was all part of my plan to undo the damage I did ten years ago. But still, Tuck was wrong. I am afraid.
I’m scared shitless.
Lu wasn’t the only one destroyed by our breakup ten years ago. It was the start of a quick, hard slide to rock bottom for me. If things don’t work out with Lu this time around, there’s no telling I won’t end up there again.
It’s not just me now either. I have dozens of employees. Several businesses who rely on my funding, which comes from profits my companies generate. People depend on me to show up. I let myself down ten years ago, but I refuse to let the people I love down.
Which means I can’t fuck this up. And even if I do everything right, there’s no guarantee Lu will stick around. The world kept us apart once before. It can happen again.
And this time, we both have so much more to lose.
But then Lu is holding out a hunk of bread to me. Her eyes smile when I take it, and this time the flavor I get is home.
Comfort.
Things I’ve been looking for since the home I grew up in imploded a decade ago.
“The shrimp and the salad and fuck, that bread—those gotta be in the cookbook.”
“I didn’t make the bread.” Lu grabs a napkin and uses it to wipe her mouth before taking a long, thirsty sip of Topo-Chico. “And you keep bringing up the cookbook.”
“Because you have to do it.”
She laughs. “I know next to nothing about publishing. Or writing, for that matter.”
“We’ll learn together.”
Lu cuts me a look, holding the bottle midair. “I told you, I have a job. And a life. I don’t know where I’d find the time.”
“You make time for the important shit.”
The indents appear between her eyebrows. “Maybe.” Sip. “I guess.”
“How do you feel when you’re cooking? Eating with friends?”
“It’s my favorite thing in the world.” She sets down the bottle. Picks at the damp label with her thumbnail. “But spending time on a cookbook—I mean, it’s silly, right?”
I shake my head. “Don’t let the world make you feel ridiculous for wanting what you want. Trust yourself. It’s only when I listened to other people that I got turned around and fucked up.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.” Her eyes meet mine. “Everyone told me how life should go. Like, get good grades, go to a good college. Get a good job and a nice boyfriend. He’ll buy you a ring, and together you buy a house. I made all the right choices at the right times.”
“And?”
She scoffs. “My mom is happy. Well. Not happy that I’m going through a horrific breakup. But I felt like she was proud of me. Everything I was doing, it’s what she did when she was my age.”