Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Preppy was funny, outrageous, ridiculous. Before that very kiss, the last way I’d ever have described him was “soft.” Yet, when he molded his lips to mine and his tongue found its way into my mouth and he groaned when it connected and tangled with mine, it’s the first word that came to mine. Soft, yet firm. He knew what he wanted from our kiss and he took it, just like he’d wanted me and he took me. His fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled me fully down on top of him, my breasts pressed firmly against his hard chest.
He was relentless in his pursuit of my mouth, his facial hair brushing against my face in another sensation that had me writhing on his lap, needing more of him than just his hands and mouth. He held my waist with one hand and lifted his hips, pressing his very hard and very large cock against my exposed panties, causing my entire body to shake with need.
I clenched my thighs around his waist to hold him closer, holding him against the spot I wanted him most, my core tightening suddenly and unexpectedly. I yelped into his mouth, but he didn’t stop for a second, didn’t pause, didn’t ease up on me.
I didn’t know if he was trying to fuck me or trying to kill me but, either way, I knew after that night a part of me would be broken.
Preppy was very much like heroin. Being with him sent me into a state of euphoria, free from the trap of my own thoughts, my past, free from anything and everything on the outside of that little room. Outside of us and our tangle of limbs.
He was an addiction. I craved him, and I wanted more.
But just like heroin, the high was all a fucking lie. I believed he was good for me when in fact, he was worse than any drug.
The door opened and Bear stepped in, setting down a half empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. He reached for his belt buckle. “Prep, you watching?” he asked, with a big smile that reached his sparkling blue eyes which were half lidded with both liquor and lust. I was still straddling Preppy as his eyes roamed over my body. “Or you want me to show you how it’s done?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
PREPPY
My cock was rock fucking hard. So hard that I was in physical pain. A beautiful kind of torture I never wanted to end.
Bear’s words snapped me out of my Dre induced fog. What the fuck was I doing? I brought her in here to tell her everything and walk away from her so she could live a normal life. This was supposed to be done. Over. So why was there this annoying narration in the back of my mind telling me it was only just the beginning?
Dre was looking from Bear to me, still straddling my lap, her perfect tits heaving up and down, pressing her fingers against her swollen bottom lip, and I knew she was waiting for me to tell him to get the fuck out but that would just prolong the inevitable. This needed to be over and it needed to be over now.
“You first,” I said to Bear. Dre’s head snapped to me but I looked away, not wanting to see the look of surprise and disappointment on her face, or maybe because I didn’t want her to see my heart fucking breaking, which I was sure was written all over my fucking face.
I lifted her off my lap and my poor hard cock practically weeped over the loss of feeling her warm cotton covered pussy through my pants. As I got up and leaned against the wall, I ignored my rapidly beating heart and tight chest, chalking it up to all the dry humping we’d just done.
I chanced a glance over at Dre, who was leaning forward with her hands against the mattress. The look of disappointment and surprise I expected was definitely there, along with something else. Dre was looking at me with her head tilted to the side, squinting like I was very small or very far away.
That look could’ve meant she was thinking about knitting or aerospace engineering, for all I fucking knew. All I knew for sure was that she’d be running out that door in the next few seconds, pissed to all hell and cursing me to the devil, and that would be the end of that.
The end of us.
She’d hate me, but that’s something I would just have to fucking deal with. It’s not like she’d be the first chick I’d pissed the fuck off. I’d rather her hate me for this than the truth.
My stomach flipped.
I leaned against the wall, suddenly ornery as fuck, crossing my arms over my chest. Bear slid his thick leather belt from the loops, dropping it to the floor with a clank. He approached the bed, shoving out of his boots as he pushed his jeans down by the waistband, stepping out of them when they reached the floor, shaking them off his foot, kicking them over to the side.