Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“H-hello?” I answered stiffly.
“Is this Ms. Ortiz?” the man on the other end of the line asked.
In and out. In and out. Slow and steady and oh so deliciously deep.
“Y-yes,” I confirmed.
“I’m calling about your vehicle warranty,” he said.
I felt my eyes cross as he started to fuck me hard.
Once I knew it wasn’t important, I hit the end button and growled. “You fucking asshole.”
“You’re the one that tried to suck my cock and leave before the deed was finished. It only seemed fair that I torture you a bit.” He moved his hands from my hips to my ribs and rode me hard and fast.
His thrusts were almost punishing in a way, as if he couldn’t believe that I would’ve left him high and dry.
I dropped my forehead to the counter and felt myself climb higher and higher.
He didn’t even have to touch my clit.
He was just that good with his cock.
With a change of his thrusts, it hit a different, deeper part of me, and I was no longer climbing. I was soaring.
With one giant leap, I dove right off the cliff and into the most intense orgasm of my life.
My eyes squeezed shut and I saw dots behind my eyelids as a scream of completion left my lips.
His hands caught my breasts and squeezed, and I wondered if I’d have a handprint bruise on each.
“Sweet Mother of God, you are a fuckin’ bitch,” he groaned. “Why do I love fucking you so much?”
I didn’t have an answer for him.
“God,” he grunted as he released inside of me.
Again, without a fucking condom.
Son of a bitch!
“Gonna take you to court for all your worth, motherfucker,” I promised as he pulled out.
“I see that you’re busy,” I heard my phone pipe up. “I’ll call back at a more convenient time.”
A beep-beep went from my phone, signaling the call drop.
We both froze for a long moment in time before we burst out laughing.
I managed to make a mess on the kitchen floor.
He pulled his pants up and watched me waddle away.
Five minutes later, I decided maybe the best thing to do would be a very hot shower. One that might kill anything that was up there.
I also knew that was a complete load of wishful-thinking bullshit, but since I was thinking with desperation and not all cylinders, I did what I could at the time.
Like always, my birds joined me on the shower ledge and watched like the creepers they were—though I really knew they enjoyed the humidity.
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t realize I also had a human creeper watching me, too, until I looked over and saw him lounging on the countertop across from the shower.
He was wearing a shirt now, which actually kind of disappointed me.
“I have to go back to work today,” he said. “I’ve taken almost four days off.”
I blinked at him. “Okay?”
“As in, I have a bodyguard assignment in Miami. I won’t be here for three days,” he said. “Then, next Tuesday, I have another assignment watching over a senator at a rally. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone for that one.”
My stomach sank.
Ideally, I knew that he would be going back to work.
I knew his job.
I knew that he put his life on the line for other people.
What I hadn’t realized was that I’d care.
I mean, ideally, beforehand, I had cared. But only because I knew that if Davis was gone, it would hurt Sara. We really disliked each other enough that I hadn’t given much care or thought to his job in the few years that he’d been performing it. But now, when I had skin in the game…I didn’t like it one bit.
“Who’s the senator?” I asked curiously to hide my sudden agitation at the thought of him being hurt.
“I dunno.” He shrugged, his eyes taking in my bathroom and all the shit that I still needed to do to it. “My secretary dealt with all the details. I just know when and where to show up. I have a dossier on them that I’ll read on the way to the event. Familiarize myself with their situation and why they’re needing a bodyguard.”
“Oh,” I turned slightly away from him so he couldn’t see my face and the worry that was likely etched there. “Can you bring home those good cookies?”
Technically, when he brought home cookies from Miami, they were for Sara. But since Sara knew that I loved them, she always let me have as many as I wanted.
“I knew those cookies were for you!” he crowed. “That little shithead tells me they’re her favorite, but I know her. I knew she didn’t start liking pecans in her chocolate chip cookies all of a sudden.”
I snickered. “She actually does. That place that you get them does something to those pecans to make them taste so good. She loves them. It just so happens that I love them more.”