Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“That’s it, sweetheart… Rain on my dick. Drown it with your sweet pussy juice, baby,” he urged, his attention keen on her sexy facial expressions.
As she started to cum, he slipped his finger between their bodies, stroking her clit as he kept slamming into her. She screamed out a hoarse, raspy curse, then trembled like she never had before. He followed suit, cumming in hard, jerky thrusts, his body completely consumed by all that was she.
When he was able to catch his breath, he sat up, bringing her along with him, and just held her. There they were, in that big house, naked. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, too. She knew so many of his secrets. She had his heart. He’d been softly seized. He’d been loved…
…A week later
When money talks, guilt or innocence walks…
Honey had effectively learned to drive a stick. Well, sorta. It was either that or rent a car or Uber to her gigs. The car she’d been dying to get her ass into was from Archer’s coveted collection—a canary yellow Porsche 718 GT4. He handed her the keys upon her request, then snatched them back, his spidey senses aroused.
He asked if she knew how to drive a stick. She lied and said she did. He called her bluff, and they spent the next ten minutes arguing about her deceit. She assured him she’d watched nine YouTube videos on the matter, as if that would be enough to persuade him. That declaration was followed with a threat that if she crashed his shit, he’d do something petty to her… downright childish. She was certain he’d do good on that threat. So, he gave her a crash course, and when he was satisfied she wouldn’t end up in a ditch, he let her go on her way.
The feeling of the wind blowing in her hair was unparalleled. She’d even made a pitstop to Whole Foods to pick up some fresh fruit and sushi for lunch. When she returned, the house was empty. Archer had been quite busy as there was a problem with one of the drop off locations. After putting her camera equipment away, showering, and changing into something a bit more comfortable, she worked on some photo editing, then called Mom and a couple of friends.
It had become easier and easier to hide her relationship from the people she loved, and that concerned her. Am I becoming a better liar, or am I still in survival mode? Perhaps it was both. The fact of the matter was, this simply could not be discussed until their business arrangement was complete. Yes, they were an item. They were together. That was her man. It was official.
However, Archer warned her that they needed to keep a low profile until everything was settled. They were definitely on the same page regarding that matter. She sat in the living room watching television with a bowl of sliced and peeled kiwis and cherries when the phone rang. The sound startled her. She had no idea he even possessed a house phone. Who still has one of those? The ringing sound was old fashioned, too. Like the kind her grandmother had—a rotary phone. She searched around for the source and found it in the kitchen, off to the side. A white cordless number.
“Hello?”
“…Who is this?” came a woman’s voice.
“You called HERE. You need to tell me who this is first.”
She could hear the woman smacking on what sounded like gum.
“I need to speak to James. Put him on the phone. Now.”
“James isn’t here, and if you keep talking to me like that, you won’t be here anymore, either. I haven’t had the pleasure of slamming a phone down on someone in a long ass time. Looks like today is my lucky day.”
The lady burst out laughing. “Oh, Jesus.” She hooted. “You’re damn straight today’s your lucky day because James never lets any of his bitches stay ’round his place without a chaperone, and you’re definitely not allowed to answer his damn phone. I tried him on his cell but he isn’t answering. Where is he?”
“I’m not answering another question until you tell me who the fuck this is.” Honey’s body temperature rose as her imagination went wild. Was Archer still a playboy? Had he been playing her like a fiddle?! The bastard swore up and down that he was single. That he had no woman. No kids. Had never been married. He even took the initiative without her asking to show his medical records, and most recent STI results. He was bending over backwards to prove himself trustworthy, or so she thought.
“You must be that motherfucker’s latest piece of ass. Possessive, aren’t you? No worries. That’s my brother. I’m Irish. What’s your name?”
Honey gave an internal sigh of relief.
“According to you, my name is bitch and P.I.A. Piece of Ass. You can call me Ms. Pia, and I’ll call you Pita. Pain in the ass. See? That works just fine, doesn’t it?”