Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“The woman I was with yesterday is my best friend’s wife. He had taken their son to change his diaper. I was staying close to her and keeping her safe while he did.”
Miss America was married and a mom?
Oz dropped his hand from my face and stepped back several steps, holding my gaze as he did so. There was a pleased gleam in his eyes, as if I had said something to put it there. He’d been the one talking. Not me. I’d been the one struggling to get proper oxygen and not squirm due to the things he was causing within my body.
A wickedness turned his lips and darkened his eyes.
“Oz Jr. has nothing on me. My tongue alone can do more than he ever could,” he said, then winked before turning and taking the few long strides to a black Hummer and climbing inside.
I blinked. His words replaying in my head now that his sexy image wasn’t commanding my every function.
“Did he say Oz Jr.?” I straightened, my eyes glued to his vehicle as he backed out of the spot.
Why would he know about my vibrator or what I called it? That was what he had been referring to, right?
My face flushed hot, and it wasn’t from the temperature outside. It had sure sounded like that was what he was talking about. I’d never told a soul about the vibrator or its nickname. That was my inside joke. I wouldn’t have told…
Oh God. no. No, no, no, no.
I covered my face with both hands. I had never told anyone about it that I could remember, and I couldn’t remember last night. The sloth. Toby hadn’t brought it to me. Oz had, and that was so ridiculously sweet, and…well, romantic. It made no sense. And what had I done, not remember it after apparently sharing that I called my vibrator Oz Jr.?
Why me? Why do I do stupid things?
I sat on the edge of my trunk, and then I realized…that had been last night. He’d come here, looking for me. He’d not gone inside the store. Had he followed me here? Maybe, but that wasn’t my actual point here.
My point was, even after I had said whatever I did last night, he had pressed against me. Touched me.
He had been hard and big, and I had felt it jerk.
I had made Oz Savelle hard.
I covered my cheeks with my hands and let out a long, shaky breath. That counselor was looking like a necessity. Who got this hot and bothered by someone who had done the things Oz had to me? Not normal people—that was who.
Twenty-Two
Oz
My focus was on my phone as I walked into the kitchen. I’d gotten the alert that there was movement, and that meant Winslet was home from school.
Since yesterday in the parking lot of the grocery store, I’d had to beat off six times. Last night, while I’d watched her sleep, I’d found the little vibrator she had named after me in her nightstand. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought to look for one of those before. But after she’d told the sloth that she needed alone time with Oz Jr., I had been hell-bent on seeing her and touching her. She’d go back to the battery-operated poor excuse for my replacement with my touch on her body to remember.
I had just wanted to see what she used to get off with; I hadn’t planned on doing anything more than that. But she’d been lazy last night, and after using it, she’d not gotten up and cleaned it. Her scent was all over the thing, and the sticky coating snapped any moral code I might have been trying to hang on to. I licked her off of it and got so damn hard while doing it that I had to pull my dick out and jerk off while I made sure to get every bit of her arousal and cream.
Putting it back, I went to find the panties she’d worn that day and wrapped them around my cock to finish the job. As if she knew what was happening and wanted to give me a little inspiration, she kicked at the covers, and her legs opened. I couldn’t see up the leg of her shorts, but they were molded to her mound and slit, which was all I needed. Her taste on my tongue and her panties rubbing against me with that image had made it hard to be silent as I shot my load all over the pink satin and lace.
This morning, she’d walked into the living room in nothing but panties, and I had been on my way to the kitchen for breakfast. Seeing her, I turned around and went right back to my bedroom, praying to any god who would listen that she’d go get her little battery-operated toy and bring it into the living room to pleasure herself.