Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“Yes.” Curiosity returns tenfold. I wonder how different it’ll feel to have him inside my ass.
He hooks his ankle around a wooden stepstool and slides it over.
“How does this work?” I wonder. “Not the mechanisms of anal, just the position I need to be in.”
“Come here.” He holds my waist, and gently, he brings me down the washer/dyer. My feet touch the stepstool, and I feel so safe here. With him.
Thatcher bites open the packet. “I’ll bend you over, and you’ll brace yourself on the washer. We’re at a good height. Copy?”
“Oui.” I smile, excitement flip-flopping my nerves, and he turns me around. So I face the washer/dryer, and I grab hold to the machine.
With his ankle, he pulls the stepstool back just slightly. I’m sufficiently bent over for him, and I crane my neck over my shoulder. Watching very keenly as he lubes himself, then teases open my hole with his finger. His grip on my ass is protective, caring, and cautious.
He eases his cock in, not far at all, and I don’t have the best view, but it can’t be more than a half an inch. And then he pulls out. Breath caged, I continue to watch. Slowly, he slides in a bit deeper, gradually and carefully expanding me. And with his size, the pressure is…
I wince into my arm.
Excruciating. Like a hammer is being jammed into me.
He stops suddenly, pulled fully out.
“Keep going,” I urge. “I want to feel more.”
“It’s not going to hurt any less.”
I cringe at the idea. Pain doesn’t bring me pleasure, but my fascination isn’t exactly quenched. “Just a few more inches.” I haven’t even taken half of him.
“Hell no.” He snaps off his condom. “This isn’t curiosity fucked the cat. If it hurts, I stop.”
“Wise words.” I face him, and he’s already lifting me up. My back on the washer, legs over his shoulders as he bends in a lunge—he eats me out with such skill, and I turn my head, seeing him jack himself off.
Yes.
This is better.
I would give him a world-class hand-job, but I’m not in reach. And I think he’d rather make my eyes roll back. Which they do.
Again.
We’re well and good. He reaches a peak, coming in his palm, and in the next few minutes, he has time to wash his hands and we clean up and begin to dress.
Bang!
I jump.
His head turns to the door. The bang is just a knock.
“Oh my God.” I touch my heart to see if it’s still inside me. Still beating. We finish putting on clothes at rapid-speed.
Just please don’t be Tony.
Please.
29
JANE COBALT
2 Days Snowed-In
After Thatcher unlocks the door, Akara enters, his red jacket wet. Snowflakes melt in his black hair, and ice crystalizes on his eyelashes.
Just seeing him makes me shiver. I pull my blanket back on my shoulders and clutch the whiskey.
Akara glances from Thatcher to me, back to Thatcher.
“We’re not staying alone together for that long,” Thatcher tells his lead. “I have a timer set on my watch.”
One hour.
We both agreed on the timeframe, and I bet we only have minutes left.
Akara shrugs off his jacket. “I wouldn’t push it any longer than that. Tony has already asked some of the guys if they thought you were acting weird.”
Thatcher nods and looks him over. “You found signal?”
“Yep. On the east end of the property.”
“How deep?”
“A hundred feet from the bird feeder.”
My mouth drops. “That far?”
“Yeah.” He throws his jacket in the hamper and blows on his palms. “Without walls blocking the spot, it’s freezing. I couldn’t spend more than five minutes there. But I spoke to Connor.”
I sway back. “You called my dad?” Out of all people, Akara chose to reach out to him.
Thatcher frowns. “You didn’t call Price or Sinclair?” The Alpha and Epsilon leads.
“I could only stand out there long enough to make two calls, and they were my third and fourth.” He speaks too urgently for me to interject. “Connor is going to relay our status to the families. I explained that we’re fine and waiting out the storm. On his end, he’s going to try and have people come up here and clear the roads…but this storm is bad.”
“How bad?” I swallow whiskey as tension mounts.
“Last time the snow fell this hard here, residents were stuck indoors for months.”
My jaw is on the floor. “Months?”
“Until March.”
“March?” My eyes have now joined my jaw. They live on the ground. I thought the only true fight we’d have is against boredom, but if we’re here past the New Year…
I picture my brothers going mad.
I picture Sulli terribly homesick.
And my cats…
They’re with Audrey. My sister is taking good care of them, but I worry. It’s not like I can easily call her and ask how they’re doing. What if one is sick? What if something happens while I’m away?