Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Her eyelids are lowered and the color rides high on her cheekbones. She looks like she’s ready for a good suck, lick and nibble in other places. As unobtrusively as possible, I press the heel of my hand against my throbbing cock. I’m so turned on right now, a light breeze could get me off. It’s time for the check. I signal for the waiter, but before I can pay, MJ taps my arm.
“What about dessert?” she asks, her face screwed up in a pitiful expression.
“What about it?” I ask. As soon as we’re back in her apartment, I’m taking her. I’m spreading her legs and devouring her pussy and when I’m done feasting on her, I’ll feed my thick cock far down between her pretty lips until the outline of my dick is in her throat. That’s gonna be my dessert.
“I have to have dessert. No meal is finished without dessert, plus, I’m terrible at desserts so I need to eat them whenever I go out.” She sends me a pleading look which hits me straight in the gut.
I’m never going to be able to tell her no. “All right.” The waiter arrives. “We need a dessert menu,” I tell him.
He shoots MJ an uncertain look.
“They don’t have a dessert menu. It’s chocolate lava cake or chocolate lava cake,” she informs me.
“Two chocolate lava cakes.”
“With ice cream,” she calls out as the waiter leaves to put our order in. She shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. I just love dessert.”
“Me, too,” I grumble. “So, you work at a restaurant?”
“Yeah, Golden Spoon. It’s comfort food, but high end.”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds good.” I settle back with the beer she ordered for me, the one that tastes like thirteen different awesome things in one.
“Comfort food is the kind of stuff you get from your mom.”
“My mom fed me caviar when I was five.”
MJ looks slightly scandalized. “Okay, maybe it’s not the stuff you get from your mom. So are you all rich?”
Ordinarily, I keep all that information to myself. I hate that people know that I’m Cullen Castile of the Park Avenue Castile’s. I want to be known as Detective Castile who lives in the ungentrified part of Hell’s Kitchen, although there’s not much of that really left. However, since I’m marrying MJ in the near future, I might as well be honest with her.
“Yeah. I mean, none of us compare with Madd. He breathes and his bank balance multiplies, but we’ve all got trusts from my grandparents.” I cross myself. “May they rest in peace, but I only use the trust for family stuff—and, okay, to buy my place, but it’s a studio so it’s not like it’s all extravagant and shit.” Then it occurs to me that maybe MJ would like a nice place. Hers isn’t shabby. It’s a two-bedroom, which meant it had to cost at least two or three million in this economy. “Not that I can’t afford more. If you—I mean, if my wife wanted, we could live anywhere.” There were several zeros in my bank balance, last I checked. I guess it’s the result of ignoring its existence most of my life.
“I like my place,” MJ says, rolling the glass cup between her hands. “Or, at least, I did. Luna’s moving out so now I’m wondering if it’s too big. I got it because it had two bedrooms and the kitchen is awesome, but if I live alone...I might get lonely.”
“I have a solution for that.”
“What?”
“Your living situation.” The idea that popped into my head when she said she might get lonely takes full flight and the lie rolls off my tongue like a piece of round candy. “My place is under construction. I was going to check into a hotel but how about I stay at your place? That way you won’t get lonely and I won’t have to spend any money.” I hold out my hand. “Deal?”
Chapter 3
Mj
Why did I agree to this? Cullen is smiling at me sitting on the bar stool Luna always sits on. I’ve gone from my sister moving out to having a man living here. A man too hot for his own good or mine. He gives me a smile with that dimple popping out. I’m never going to be able to tell this man no if he flashes that dimple at me. I’ll just have to keep that to myself so he doesn’t use it as a weapon.
“It is a nice kitchen.” It’s not bad. It’s not my dream kitchen but it works. I used the money I’d gotten from a few deals on Instagram to put a big down payment on it. It’s crazy what people will pay for you to take a picture with their shit. It’s also crazy knowing that people find my cooking to be so interesting. They’d never know that I taught myself to cook because my parents were so absent that I needed to do it to survive. Some of my best memories are of me cooking for a young Luna. Cooking started out as a necessity but has grown into my passion. I can take what looks like an empty pantry and turn it into a meal that tastes pretty damn good.