Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“That was …” I drew in a breath. “So far away from hygienic. Way worse than you working shirtless. If health and safety dropped by, they’d kick our asses.”
He toppled backwards, laughing his butt off.
“If Mrs. Contreras was here, she’d hang us in town square,” he agreed.
“We don’t have a town square,” I pointed out.
“She’d have made one.” He leaned back toward me. “Whatever, I had a good run.”
“Short one.”
“Not too short for me.” His eyes glittered.
I slid my gaze down, reached for his half-mast shaft, and swiped a finger over the crown. He shuddered and hissed at my touch. I stuck out my tongue, touched my cum-filled finger to it, giving it a thorough lick.
“Hmm.” I closed my eyes, covering my whole finger with my mouth.
He groaned, yanking me into his embrace. We hugged, my head tucked under his chin. He drew circles over my back with the tips of his fingers.
I had no idea what we were at this moment, but it was definitely more than friends. There was intimacy there, no matter how much he tried to deny it. But pushing him to do something he clearly wasn’t interested in wasn’t fair for him or me.
“Promise me you won’t regret this tomorrow morning,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, feeling a fat, warm tear sliding out of my right eye.
“No promises.”
West
Stubborn rays of sun poured from the cracks of the food truck’s window, making my eyelids sting. I shielded my face from the sun and rolled over on the floor. When I didn’t bump into a small body, I opened my eyes.
No Texas.
I sat up straight. The Clorox scent around me told me everything I needed to know—Grace had wiped last night out of the trailer and scrubbed it clean while I was passed out. Question was—did she wipe it from her memory, too?
I couldn’t blame her if she had. I basically gave her my old no-strings-attached shtick. By scrolling all the way down my bullshit verbal contract and signing on the small print, she’d agreed to never ask for anything other than a dirty fuck. The tragic part was, I hadn’t even had the balls to fuck her. Even though, in all probability, I could have.
But I knew screwing her was going to mess with my resolve to leave her alone.
And I really, really needed to leave her alone.
My fascination with this chick had gone too far, and it was time to back away. Unless, of course, she’d agreed to do this casually, then fuck my logic and fuck my promises to myself. I was going to have her any way I could.
I got up from the floor, looking around me. The scent of steaming brewed coffee and freshly baked croissants filled my nostrils. I spotted them immediately on the counter, right next to a note.
I grabbed the note first—already a bad sign. Ninety-nine percent of men would reach for the food first.
I had to go take care of Grams (it’s the weekend and Marla is off).
Take care of yourself. I turned your phone alarm to half an hour before Karlie and Victor start their shift.
—Texas
I grinned to myself like an idiot. I had no indication that I looked like an idiot, but I sure felt like one.
Stuffing her note into my back pocket, I dug into the pastry and coffee on my way out of the trailer. I was glad I didn’t have a shift today. All I wanted was to take a shower, catch up on more sleep, and maybe hit Tex up later today, see if she wanted to hang out. I spent way too much money when we hung out, on stupid shit like designer ball caps and Frito pies, but it was always worth it. It recharged me. Made Fridays a little more bearable. Or should I say—a little less hellish.
Which reminded me—I needed to send a text message to everyone who worked at the Plaza, warning them Grace Shaw was banned for life from our fine institute. One less problem to worry about.
I whistled on my way to the Ducati and spent the ride home replaying the moment she licked my cum from her finger until my mental tape was stuck. My dick stirred against the hard leather seat, which was unfortunate and un-fucking-comfortable, but unthinking about it was a waste of a fucking good memory.
I was pretty sure even if I died at the ripe age of a hundred, reaping many memories along the way, this would still be the moment to flash before my eyes before I finally kicked the bucket.
I parked in front of the rundown house East and I had rented, taking off my helmet and striding toward the front porch. I stopped as soon as I saw her.
What the hell was she doing here?
My blood simmered in my veins, threatening to melt my whole damn body into a puddle of anger. My molars were a nanosecond from turning into dust, and I could feel my jaw squaring. I put an apple candy between my teeth, not bothering to take my sunglasses off. “Caroline.”