Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“You feel so good, baby.” I barely have any breath in my lungs.
I feel my face contort, and I imagine it looks like I’m terrified—she’s so fucking tight. So tight.
A dream.
Round and round.
“Does that feel good?”
She nods, biting her lip.
“You like that?”
Another nod and her head thrashes on the pillow—a fantastic sign. She is going to come if it kills us both.
I want to pound into her so hard my ass cheeks are flexing, self-control the only thing holding me back.
Quiet sex has never been my style—I like it loud and dirty and messy—but there’s something to be said about what she and I have now, here, in this moment.
It’s more than a physical connection because I love her.
Then, something incredible happens.
Scarlett’s eyes widen, this time not from pain, but from pleasure. Cheeks flush, boobs bounce as I thrust just a little harder, thumb still working the hot button between her legs.
“Oh…” she moans.
Moans again, head tipping back, hands grasping the pillow.
Yes…yes.
Fuck. Yes.
My hips swivel. Pelvis rocks.
“Sterling…”
The look on her face matches mine—panicked.
Frantic.
And it’s magical when she comes. I will never forget the look on her face, or the sounds she makes, the gasping noises and tortured near sobs.
Gorgeous.
I love you, Scarlett.
MONDAY
Scarlett
It’s much too dark in our cabin, curtains pulled closed, and I can barely make out the shape of Rowdy as he yanks on his gym shorts in the corner of the room, trying not to wake me but failing when he bumps into the compact-sized coffee table.
Black mesh shorts with red stripes running up the sides. Formfitting tank top. White socks. Black trainers.
He’s going to drive all the women in the workout room crazy.
Even in the dark he looks hot.
I roll toward him, resting my chin in the crook of my arm. “What time is it?”
He sits down on the edge of the mattress, stroking my back. Leans down to kiss my bare shoulder. “Shh, babe, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Next, his lips kiss my temple, hand sliding beneath the sheet and skimming over my waist. He’s so big and warm, and I want to cuddle, missing him already.
“Don’t go.” I stretch, reaching for him.
“Go back to sleep.” Another kiss to my exposed skin. “I won’t be gone long, maybe two hours.”
Two hours!
“I’ll take a shower in the gym then wake you up with post-workout morning sex.”
“But I’m already awake.” I yawn, rolling to my back.
“Think of it this way,” he croons in the dark. “I’ll get a better workout knowing my reward is a slow bang when I get back. Do me a favor and be naked when I get back.”
I’m already naked under these blankets, neither of us bothering to get dressed after having sex last night; our pajamas never even made it to the party.
“Unless.” He trails a finger down my stomach, circling my belly button. “You want me to get you off before I go?”
I moan, sore but greedy.
His hand strays back up, gently kneading a breast. “Shit, I shouldn’t have started touching you.” He leans over me, kissing my cheek where my dimple is. “Maybe I should get naked and stay.”
“No, you should go. You’ll regret it all day if you don’t.”
We regard each other in the near dark, only a thin sliver of light peeking through the shades. He knows I’m right; he would regret it if he didn’t go.
“Promise you’ll be in this spot in two hours when I get back?”
“It’s five o’clock.” I stretch like a cat. “I’m not about to hop out of bed.”
“Okay, I’ll hurry.” He rises, standing over me. “Don’t go anywhere.”
I yawn. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Instead, I dream of him.
Dream of the night we met—only this time when he leads me out of the party, he’s holding me by the hand. This time when I follow him out to the porch, there are lavender roses on the swing, their fragrance drifting up to my nose. It rocks back and forth in the wind, the flowers falling to the floor, one at a time, petals scattering in the wind.
When I reach for Rowdy’s hand, he’s gone, replaced by a tall, looming—
I jerk awake, flat on my back, staring at the ceiling.
It’s light outside now, sun furiously pushing through the shades, hot white light. That one sliver of light is blinding, so I shift, turning toward the door.
Rise up slowly, feet thrown over the mattress.
The space between my thighs is sore, tender. I test out my legs before standing.
Not the best, but not the worst.
Sterling isn’t back yet, but he will be soon, so I stand and hobble to the bathroom.
When I pee, it burns, and I cringe, wiping away a little blood. Stare at the toilet paper in my hands—at the blood and what those red spots mean: I am no longer a virgin.