Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Asshole.
“Andrew.”
He pauses but just as quickly removes his grabby hands from me and starts with his own clothes. Andrew smiles like he’s won the lottery as he unbuttons his shirt.
“Slow down. It’s not a race,” I tell him, then turn and enter the kitchen. I open the cabinet, grab a bottle of red wine, and pour myself a glass. When I look up, I see him still undressing. “Do you want a glass?”
“I want you,” he says eagerly.
I laugh a little. I mean, it’s nice to be wanted. And Andrew knows why he’s here. To fuck. He knows I want nothing more, that sex is it for me. And he agreed. So why am I not letting him get to it? Lifting my glass of wine to my lips, I drink the whole thing and shake my head.
“You want me.”
Okay, he wants me.
I can do this.
I love sex, and sex loves me.
I step around the kitchen counter to find a naked Andrew waiting for me.
Sex.
It’s just sex.
“Why do you want me?” I ask, reaching for my half-unbuttoned shirt that Andrew was attempting to get off of me.
“Have you seen yourself?” he asks with a smile, his cock hardening even further when my gaze drops to it. It’s a nice size, average, maybe. He has confidence, I must say that.
I met Andrew a few months ago through Monica, and we’ve been messaging and talking for a bit. I haven’t had time or the chance to go out with him until tonight. And I was about to cancel on him again, but Crue made me mad.
Why should he get a say on who I date?
He shouldn’t.
He’s known me for what? A day or two? And he thinks he has full control of me.
Now that’s a laugh and a half. Crue could never have control of me.
I would never sign up for that.
Unbuttoning the last few buttons of my shirt, I pull it off, leaving me in a skirt and a red lacy bra. His gaze roams my body, and I know he appreciates what he sees.
His hardness shows me what he’s thinking.
Andrew steps toward me, but I put up a finger, halting him. “Skirt on?” I ask.
“Off,” he says without hesitation.
I smirk and unzip it before shimmying the material down my legs and letting it drop to the floor. I’m standing in my red lacy set with matching stockings, garters, and heels. I turn around and feel him come up behind me just before his hands brush my ass. He rubs circles on my flesh, and I feel his cock ever so close to me. “I want to bend you over.”
“Hmm, what else?” I wait for him to speak, but his hands disappear, and I hear a loud crack before it sounds like something falls. Looking over my shoulder, I don’t see Andrew. The person staring back at me is the man I wish would touch me. My gaze lowers, and I find Andrew on the floor at his feet.
“What have you done?” I ask, stepping back, my eyes trained on Andrew.
Who is not moving.
I drop down and crawl toward him, my hand reaching to touch his neck. With shaky fingers, I check his pulse. When I don’t feel anything, I look up at Crue watching me.
“You are so beautiful on your hands and knees.”
“What did you do?” I whisper, unable to look away from him. He’s dressed in the same suit he left here only a few hours ago. He bends, his finger lifting my chin so I don’t break our stare.
“You are mine! In every sense of the word.” I shake my head, and he leans in and touches his lips to mine. I’m paralyzed, unable to move. How can this be? How can he do this to me? And why do his lips taste like my favorite treat? His tongue slides into my mouth, and I pull back, falling backward on my ass as I look at Andrew.
Crue stays crouched, and the angle makes him seem more predator than man. “You will learn to listen to me.”
His words make me angry. Not just angry for Andrew, who I’m guessing is dead, but for what he’s implying.
“I am not yours.” I spit the words at him.
Crue laughs and stands, and I sit there as he calmly goes to the door and opens it. “If any of you look at her, I will pick your eyeballs from your sockets,” he says to someone in the hallway.
“Yes, sir.” Two men enter the apartment, dressed in hazmat suits. I watch in complete horror as they walk over to Andrew, roll him up, pick him up, and walk out. Not once do they look at me. I glance down at my body and remember what I am wearing. I stand quickly, and Crue is next to me in an instant, his hands around my waist and his body pressed against mine.