Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
We get a table in a private corner of the dining room. I don’t see anyone I know as we’re seated and Ford orders wine. We clink our glasses together and he watches me with a seductive little smile, and I blush thinking about the last few nights.
I’m sore in the best possible way.
We last minutes—seconds, really—each night after we’re in bed and the lights are out before I find Ford crossing the invisible line. And I find myself welcoming him with eager lips, with eager legs and an eager tongue. Because Ford’s shown me more about sex than I ever dreamed I’d learn in a life time.
And he’s a very patient, very kind teacher.
But not exactly gentle.
The anticipation is overwhelming. I get through the day at work thinking about him the whole time, completely aware that he’s not going to keep his hands off me for very long. He’s always coming in late, and always looking at me like he wants to destroy me, and that’s exactly what he does—slowly, painfully, explosively. I’ve been touched and licked and fucked in ways I never even thought about. Now I feel more tired than I’ve ever been in my whole life and, it’s the exhaustion of someone very satisfied with some very hard work.
“Can I admit something to you?” he asks and doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I thought living with a woman would be a pain in the ass.”
“This is the part where you say it’s not and you actually love having me around all the time.”
His lips quirk. I love the scar on the one edge of his mouth though he never talks about it. Actually, there are a lot of scars he never mentions and even though I trace them with my finger as he pounds deep inside of me, we don’t talk about them, and I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to ask what they are yet.
“You smell like horses. You know that, right?”
I glare at him. “I work on a farm, asshole. You know, doing hard work?”
“Cute, a Stockton talking about hard work. Doesn’t your family spend most of its time lounging by the pool or playing golf?”
I grind my jaw. “Yes, but I’m not like my family.”
His expression softens. “I know that, and that’s why I like you.”
“You like me now? I thought I smelled like a barn.”
“You do, and you leave your hair all over the drain, and you don’t pick up after yourself, and—”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I say, glaring hard.
He laughs and reaches out suddenly and catches my hand. “But I love the way you laugh. I love the way you dance a little while you’re making coffee.”
“I do?” I blink at him and hadn’t even noticed myself doing it.
“You wiggle your hips and whistle in the shower too. It’s fucking mesmerizing. I like the way you curl up on the couch at night, and the way you make faces at yourself in the mirror, and the way your toes curl while my fingers—”
“Do not make this dirty, you were so close to being sweet.”
He laughs and squeezes my fingers. “I’m just saying that I’ve enjoyed having you around lately.”
I blush deeply and cover my sudden embarrassment by taking a drink. I didn’t know Ford could be so sentimental or kind but apparently, he contains multitudes. “You just like the sex,” I mutter.
“I love the sex. I could fuck you all day long if you decided to quit your job.”
“One of us has to work.”
“We’re rich. I don’t think that’s true.”
“I’m not going to quit my job just so I could stay home and be your—” I hesitate, not even sure how to put it into words. “Your little sex toy.”
He perks up. “Oh, but I’d love that. I could come home to find you in all new outfits every day, waiting for me in different places throughout the house, ready to drop to your knees and take me deep into your throat and—”
“Ford,” I whisper sharply. “There are people nearby!”
“And I hope they’re listening.” He’s grinning, almost laughing, and I have to take another long drink of wine. “Anyway, it isn’t just the sex, but I won’t pretend like the sex doesn’t help.”
“The sex definitely helps,” I admit and tap my finger against the glass. “Have you spoken to your grandfather lately? Is there anything new happening there?”
“I don’t think so,” he admits. “My plan to win him over isn’t exactly going great, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work in the long run.”
“I’m just starting to worry that this whole thing is one-sided. So far, Grandfather hasn’t cut me off and he’s still paying Mom’s bills, but sooner or later—”
“If that happens, I’ll take care of everything.”
“You won’t be able to get me my job at Shady Farms back though.”