Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
When my gaze finally made it to his semi-hard cock protruding between muscular thighs, I had to hold in a gasp.
Jared was big. Above-average length. And thick.
The girth …
Wet heat flooded between my thighs.
I itched to throw open the door and throw myself on him.
But Jared turned, thankfully with his back to me. Thankfully because not only did it provide me with an excellent view of his muscular ass, but it meant he didn’t see me as he headed out of sight toward the bathroom.
What the hell are you doing? I shrieked at myself, backing up as quietly and as slowly as possible. This was wrong. This was so wrong.
I’d perved on Jared.
Forgetting about the glass of water, I scurried back into my room, barely able to hear over the rushing of blood in my ears.
Scrambling into bed, I reached over to switch off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into somewhat darkness, considering the sky was still navy outside.
I tried to slow my breathing, to calm myself enough to sleep.
But every time I closed my eyes I saw naked Jared.
Naked Jared.
My naked husband.
“Ugh,” I groaned. How unfair was it that he was technically mine … and I couldn’t have him.
As I tossed and turned, trying to sleep, unable to for the flush across my skin, I eventually decided that I could at least have him in my fantasies. So I held the image of him in my head as I touched myself and smothered the sounds of my orgasm in my pillow.
Finally, eventually, I drifted to sleep.
Twenty
Jared
Icouldn’t remember the last time I’d had balls this blue.
When Allegra proposed we refrain from seeing other people for the first two months of our marriage, I didn’t think anything of it. Contrary to popular belief, I had gone more than a week without sex. After my grandfather died, in fact, I’d gone six months without sex because I couldn’t bear to be close to anyone, even in just a physical capacity. The only person I hadn’t put my guard up with was Sarah because she was the only other person who was in as much pain as I was.
So I could go without sex.
The problem was that I’d promised to go without sex while married to and living with the sexiest fucking woman in existence.
Everything Allegra did turned me on.
One night, she brought all this girly shit downstairs so she could paint her nails while we watched a movie. When she’d stretched out a leg and bent over to paint her toenails, it might as well have been a striptease for how my body reacted.
I’d imagined knocking the nail crap out of the way, taking her gorgeous legs in hand, and hooking them over my shoulders so I could go down on her. Thankfully, she was preoccupied with her nails so she barely noticed me excusing myself to go stand in the open door of the goddamn freezer.
Last night, playing her husband was easy and difficult at the same time. I’d never wanted to be anyone’s husband, but I couldn’t deny the possessiveness I felt around Allegra. How much I’d wanted to knock that rich arsehole through the wall when I’d spotted him across the room reaching out to tuck a strand of my wife’s hair behind her ear.
How many times had I wanted to do the same thing? To follow the move by trailing my fingers down her silky throat, to feel her pulse beneath my touch, to feel it race as I moved lower.
Being allowed to put my hands on her, in fact being “forced” to for the sake of our ruse, had stretched my willpower to its breaking point. If I didn’t rein in this bloody need for Allegra, I was going to do something we’d inevitably regret. Even if it felt fucking amazing in the moment.
Weirdly, I didn’t want our deal to end badly. When this was all over, I still wanted to be in Allegra’s life. I still wanted to be her friend. I needed her to know that she had one person in her life who knew her truth and saw her for who she really was: a good person who would do anything to protect those she loved. Selfishly, I wanted her to remain my friend too. To have someone other than Sarah who knew my worst secrets and still saw good in me.
I smiled to myself as I watched her baby-talking to one of the hens she’d called Ginger after a character in the movie Chicken Run. She’d turned the chickens into pets. Ginger, to be fair, had taken a shine to Allegra. She ran like an excited kid toward her anytime Allegra was in the vicinity of the pen. My wife had announced after only one day of taking care of the chickens that she would never eat chicken again. We hadn’t since.