Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
“Law, I’m not on the pill.”
“I didn’t think you were, love.”
Her head is thrown back, her eyes closed, and she’s lost in pleasure. “Oh God, I’m so close. Maybe you should pull out.”
I laugh against her throat. “No, baby, I don’t pull out of you. Ever.”
She clenches down on my dick hard, and I feel her juices all over me. I tilt my hips up a little, hitting her clit with every stroke. It has her scratching my back and moaning my name after only a few pumps.
“That’s it, Josephine. Cum all over my raw cock. Open that soft cunt up for me so I can go off inside you. I’m not pulling out, so if you cum on me, I’ll nut in you.”
My words are enough to send her over the edge, and she shouts her orgasm into the room. Our room. I feel her cunt wet my dick, and it’s all the invitation I need. I thrust against her one last time and hold it deep as I cum in her virgin pussy.
When I feel the last drop of my cum splash inside her, I roll us over, not breaking our connection. She lies on top of me, breathing hard, and I smile.
She’s mine now.
Chapter Three
Joey
“Jesus H. Christ, Joey. You’ve got that stupid grin on your face again.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to try to stop the smile as I look out from under the hood of the old Lincoln I’m working on. I meet Butch’s eyes and fail miserably, busting out laughing at the look he’s giving me.
“I can’t believe a fucking copper put that look on your face.” He leans under the hood, using both hands to brace himself like we’re about to have some big conversation about this. And we’re not. This is my business, and for the first time in my life, I don’t have three giant older brothers in it.
“I don’t give you shit about whose legs you’re between, so why you giving me shit about who’s between mine?” I pull the rag from my back pocket and wipe the grease off my hands. Glancing up at the clock, I see I have about enough time to get home and shower before Law is at my door.
Like clockwork every day for the past two weeks, he’s at my door, picking me up at six thirty sharp. Each time he makes me pack a giant bag and asks me why I just don’t go straight to his house when I leave work. I’m slowly noticing that each day, more and more stuff is disappearing from my house and turning up at his.
It should piss me off, but it doesn’t. In fact, it just puts the stupid smile back on my face.
“Just making sure you’re good. You haven’t slept at home one time since the copper took you on that date. Don’t want you getting too deep into something and getting hurt.”
“Not all men are like you, Butch. Some of them actually don’t fuck ’em and leave ’em.”
“I’m not trying to be an ass, I just want you to be careful is all.” He runs his hand through his shaggy brown hair like he’s mulling something over. “To be honest with you, you guys just don’t look like you fit together.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I throw the towel down on the workbench, then motion for him to move so I can drop the hood down on the Lincoln.
“He just looks like the type to be with some snotty trophy wife. His father’s the Mayor, for fuck’s sake. You see that guy’s wife?” His words burn like acid in my stomach. Fuck this shit. I’m not even hearing it. I know what’s been happening between Law and me for the past two weeks, and it’s been perfect. The way he touches me and treats me, it’s like I’m the rarest thing on earth. Like he can’t live without me.
“Fuck you, Butch. Just because I’m not some rich socialite doesn’t mean I can’t attract a man.”
“Hold up. That’s not what I meant at all. That went both ways. He doesn’t seem like your type either. I thought you’d end up on the back of someone’s bike or something. Not with the quarterback of the football team.”
He’s got me there. I can see why he’d think that, but like most things in my life I don’t fit the mold of what people think. Why would who I end up with be any different.
“Thanks for your concern, but it’s not needed.” I unzip my coveralls, letting them hit the floor as I step out of them. Picking them up, I throw them into the bin with all the dirty, grease-covered clothes.
“Just be careful is all I’m saying.” Butch does the same, peeling off his work coveralls before throwing them into the bin. I feel my phone vibrate against my ass, warming my stomach because I know who it is. Sliding my finger over the phone, I read the message.