Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“Nah, I have to reward you for your good behavior.” I tap the lock. “Look at you, using your safety equipment.”
“I think of you every time I have to fish the key out of my pocket,” she replies pertly, telling me with her tone, if not her words, that she finds it annoying.
“I hope you’re thinking of me more often than that. What about the bedroom? Do you have certain thoughts there?”
“Yes. I wish my shades were darker because sometimes the light wakes me up.”
I swat her ass. “Sounds like someone is issuing a challenge. If you don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow, say that.”
“You don’t look like you have the energy to kill a fly let alone make love to me even once tonight,” she teases.
Suddenly, my tiredness disappears. I sweep her up in my arms, kick off my shoes, and stride to her bedroom. She shrieks in my ear.
“Let me down. I need to shower! I stink of beer and grease and people.”
“I’m too weak for shower sex, Irish. Let’s do missionary on the bed.”
I toss her onto the mattress and then strip out of my clothes. Naked, I lie down on my back and pat my lips. “Bring your sweet pussy up here.”
Irish heaves a huge put-upon sigh. “I can’t believe I, the woman, have to do all the work.”
“It’s the twenty-first century. This is what you fought for. Equality and all that.”
She tosses her shirt to one side and then shimmies out of her jeans and panties. “I never fought for that. I was happy being a bored housewife.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She crawls on top of me, brushing my hard cock with one of her legs as she brackets me between her thighs. I let out a groan.
“Did I hurt you?” she asks with worry, looking over her shoulder at my erection.
“Yes. Every day I’m not inside of you, I’m in extreme pain.”
“I’m not the one who left,” she points out.
“Fair, but I did ask you to come and join me.”
“I‘ve got the bar to watch over.”
“I thought you wanted to be a pampered housewife.”
“We are not married.”
I palm her ass and pull her forward. “That can be changed.”
She might’ve said something else, but my mouth on her pussy had her swallowing her tongue. She tastes tart and sweet at the same time, like some exotic spiced honey that is only produced by one queen hidden in the ancient ruins on an island no one has ever heard of and is impossible to reach. I clamp a hard hand around each hip. I’ve got her now, and I don’t plan on letting go.
I kiss her delicious cunt until she’s shaking like a leaf at the very end of autumn. I pull my mouth away and lift her down on top of my cock.
“Hold on, Irish.” I slam into her.
“Oh my God,” she screams.
I’m balls deep. Sweat’s dripping off my forehead. I lift her off and then drop her down again.
“Wait. I can’t—”
“You can take it, Irish. You’ve got this.”
I keep up the manic rhythm, spearing her deep again and again.
She rides me hard. Her nails dig into my chest. Her lube spreads across my thighs. I catch her when she comes apart, her orgasm seizing her and throwing her off the cliff. I follow her right over the edge, flinging myself into a vortex of sensation.
When we both surface, we’re exhausted. She collapses on my body, my cock still wedged deep inside her.
“I should get up and shower.”
“You should sleep.” I fumble for a blanket and drag the comforter by a single corner until her body and mine are covered.
“Where were you?” she mumbles into my chest. “What’s crowd management? Are you going to break my heart?”
“No, Irish, I’m not breaking your heart. I want to hold it with me at all times. Come with me, and I’ll show you my world. It might not be what you expected, but it’s not terrible, and if we’re together, it’ll be perfect.”
She’s quiet for so long I wonder if she’s fallen asleep, but right as I’m about to give in to my fatigue she whispers, “Okay.”
I wrap my arms around her tight and give her a long kiss. “You won’t regret it.”
The next day, I text Chris to let him know that I’m bringing Irish. Meanwhile, she’s busy arranging with James to cover the bar.
“Just a week for now, James.” She casts a worried glance in my direction. “I don’t want to be gone longer than that.”
Make sure there’s a private space for her. I want furniture, a television, everything. Hire a stylist for her too.
Do you still want that Airbnb?
Negative. She’ll stay with me in the presidential suite. I want a car available for her. Not sure about food yet. I’ll text you that. Also roses in the bathtub. Lots of candles and flower arrangements. Let’s have a big one in every room.