Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
What would you do if you were here?
I let out a long, trembling breath. I keep remembering Mallory, Luke, and my promise to my old best friend. The mess with Mallory… Then I force that all aside, quickly turning into my apartment. I take long strides until I’m in my bedroom, knowing I can’t back out now. My mind’s a haze, my thoughts clouded and clashing, making it impossible to think past the immediate lust. I’m hungry, that’s the truth, and starving for Zoey.
Tell me what you’re wearing, or show me.
You want a picture? she replies.
More than anything.
I’ve never done this before. Do you promise nobody else will ever see it?
As I read the words, thunder clashes in my thoughts. I imagine another man looking at my woman when she’s full of lust and newfound confidence, or maybe the confidence only exists over text. Whatever. I don’t care. It exists. That’s all that matters.
I’d never show anybody a photo of you. Whatever you send is just for me. Only me.
I have to stop myself from adding forever.
Okay… but don’t forget, I’m not a model or anything.
There’s something YOU need to stop forgetting, Zoey. You can’t keep putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, sexy, interesting, and clever. You’re the best woman I’ve ever met. You don’t need to criticize yourself for anything.
Thank you for saying that. Let me go sort out your reward.
I wait, not at all patiently, my hand a tight fist on my phone. It’s a miracle I don’t shatter it with the tension infusing every inch of my body. Finally, my phone vibrates. I drop onto my bed, breathing heavily, my tip bulging against my pants. Pleasure leaks hotly out of me, wetness in my underwear, precome that has me thinking of her wet slit and my shaft pushing her tight walls aside as I grind up inside her.
She’s standing in her bathroom, facing the mirror, wearing PJ shorts and a tank top that outlines the shape of her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, letting me see her needy nipples and their intoxicating shape.
Jax? she texts a moment later, nervous I won’t respond.
If I was there… I focus on typing, made difficult by my body shaking with hunger. I’d tear off that tank top and free your full breasts. I’d suck them greedily, Zoey. I’d suck them like they belong to me.
They do belong to me, just like every other part of her, but I don’t add that. I’ve got to remember some restraint, at least.
At the same time, I go on, I’d slide my hand up your curvy leg and tease you, massaging your thighs as your pussy gets hotter and needier. You’d start moaning in that sexy-as-hell way of yours, wanting me to slip my hand the rest of the way. But like the asshole I am, I’d keep teasing you until you were completely crazy.
CHAPTER 13
Zoey
I’m back in my bedroom with my legs pushed together as I read his message, the things he’d do to me if he were here. My nipples have become as needy as he said he’d make them, as if he’s already here, doing what he promised. Sucking my nipples, teasing me by massaging my thigh inches from my pussy.
I’m already crazy for you, I reply. Would you put me out of my misery, eventually?
Downstairs, it sounds like Mom is cleaning, bustling around. She does this when she’s anxious sometimes. I wonder if it’s about work or if her nerves arise from the fact that Jax is back in her life. Maybe seeing him triggered many old memories, drawing up echoes of the old times.
When you started moaning like you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d finally press my hand against your pussy, but when I felt the pleasure jolt through you, my hand wouldn’t be enough. I’d rip off your shorts and lay you down, kneel, and then feast—FEAST, Zoey—on your hot, tight, wet pussy. I’d lick your clit slowly at first, then quicker. Are you touching yourself for me?
I glance at the door as if Mom’s going to barge in here any second, but she’s downstairs. I can hear her. I’ve got to stop thinking stuff like that. It’s ruining the moment. Never mind, the moment deserves to be ruined with all the messiness shading this, shading us, Jax—the man I should never want and can’t stop wanting.
Do you want me to?
I’m telling you to, he replies instantly. Play with your pussy for me. Massage your clit.
What about you? I text.
I’m already stroking my cock over that photo you sent.
And texting me? You’re a talented multitasker.
Answer my question, Zoey.
I lie back on the bed, sliding my hand into my shorts. The texture of my hand against my sex is nothing compared to his hand, but the fantasy of his words lets me sink into the make-believe world.