Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
And when she cries out, broken and throaty, I know she’s there. Her body bends violently, forcing her core against my hand, so I flatten my palm and circle, firm and slow, working her through it while getting myself past the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s painful. Only when her strung muscles soften do I slow my hand to a stop, letting my muscles relax while my skin tingles crazily with the aftereffects of my orgasm.
“Shit.” Lainey takes the words right out of my mouth. “I mean . . .” She sighs, releasing my hair and letting her arms flop out to the sides, off the edge of the lounger. “Shit.”
“Ridiculously amazing,” I agree.
“God, yes.”
“Overwhelming.”
“Yes.”
“Impossibly fucking intense.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathes out, trying to catch a breath. “Ready for another swim?”
I half laugh, half scoff. It’s all I have the energy to do, so if she’s planning on some more pool time, she can think again. I’m not moving for a while yet. I need to get the feeling back in my numb legs first. “Lainey, I’m good for nothing right now.”
It’s beyond me where she finds the energy, but she turns herself over and spreads herself on my front, edging up to get our faces level. I just about manage to keep my eyes open. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re insanely good in bed?”
“All the time,” I pant, unable to fight off her playful whack of my head. I really am good for nothing. “But it’s never been this good for me.”
“Never?”
“Never,” I confirm, squaring a serious look on her, at the same time hoping she feels the same.
“We fit just right, don’t we?” she asks, almost thoughtful. I cheer on the inside. Yes, we do, and I’m so happy she thinks so, too. “It freaks me out.”
I don’t like that bit so much. “Why?”
Her fingertip meets my temple and traces a line down to my chin, her eyes following. “Because it’s too perfect.”
I stall for a response to that, wondering if she’s right. “Is that a bad thing?”
Her dainty shoulders shrug a little, and she kisses me delicately on the lips. “I don’t know yet.”
Yet? “Are you expecting to know anytime soon?” Surely too perfect is . . . well, better than perfect. And since perfect is already perfect, what’s the problem?
She smiles, sitting up on my lap and dangling her legs off the edge of the lounger either side. “I’ll let you know when I’ve figured it out.”
“I have an idea.” I bring my arms up under my head, propping me up a little.
“What’s that?”
“Don’t try to figure it out.”
“Why?” Lainey places her palms on my chest.
“Because we’re perfect together. Leave it there and enjoy.”
“Sounds simple.”
“Because it is. Stop over-complicating it.”
She studies me for a moment before mildly nodding her head. “I love my job,” she begins tentatively. I’m quick to open my mouth to reassure her, but her hand is over my lips before I can speak. “Just listen to me.” An impressive scowl is pointed at me. “I love my job, but I hate being at work knowing you’re nearby and I can’t throw myself at you.”
My eyebrow quirks. “Throw yourself at me?” I mumble against her palm, and she rolls her eyes.
“I mean, it’s really hard to be professional when all I want to do is eat you up.”
My grin is massive. Fucking huge, probably stretching wider than her hand across my face. She rolls her eyes again, and I take her hand and pull it away from my mouth, just so she can really see how happy that makes me. Fucking delirious. “You might have to start handcuffing me to my desk before I give in to temptation.”
Now Lainey grins too. “It’s so hard, isn’t it?”
“Not at the moment.” I flex my hips up. “But a little suck might solve the problem.”
She giggles, falling forward onto my chest, and my arms are around her fast, my nose taking a hit of her hair. “You’re so funny.”
“And you love me.” I so didn’t mean to say that, and when Lainey stiffens in my hold, I freeze. And so does my brain, giving me nothing to redeem myself. What a stupid thing to say. So fucking stupid. Where the hell did that come from?
“We should get a shower,” she says, lifting from my embrace, refusing to look me in the eye. I want to blow my brains out. What a twat.
I let her up, searching my dumb mind for the right thing to say, as I watch her step under the spray of the shower by the pool. I drag myself up, dispose of the condom, and join her, but it’s uncomfortable as we both wash the chlorine away. And when she steps out, drying and dressing while I look on, I decide I can’t take the atmosphere any more.