Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“You don’t have a kidney stone.”
“Dr. Google says I have a kidney stone.”
“Dr. Swagger says you had three glasses of champagne in the car before you took a really big cock that distracted you from everything other than the best orgasm of your life, which left you weak and resulted in the sudden awareness that you had to pee due to…” he snaps then shoots me with his finger guns, “…three glasses of champagne. Not a fucking kidney stone.”
I just stare. And blink. Once. Twice.
Yeah. That makes more sense.
Of course I’m not going to tell him that. Instead, I kick the door shut because I want to read up more on the causes of my diagnosis—bladder hypertrophy. And because peeing is one thing, but a real lady doesn’t wipe in the presence of others.
When I’m finished and have convinced myself that, despite what Dr. Google says, I’m not experiencing the final stages of renal failure, I move to stand. I end up sitting back down and having to attempt it again, then again, before I’m steady on my feet.
I’m contemplating whether to put my foot on the toilet to get a better look at the damage to my vagina, then asking Dr. Google what he thinks when the door opens.
Jake eyes me. Clearly amused. “What are you doing?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m glad I wasn’t doing, considering you just barged in here without knocking.”
I’m being serious. But he’s fighting a smile. Eventually, he gives in and it spreads across his face. “Come on, pretty girl. Your bath is ready.” He takes my hand and I float behind him. He could be leading me to the edge of a cliff. Off the side of a bridge. Into Hell’s fire and I’m pretty sure I’d willingly go. All because he called me pretty.
I’m such a sucker.
And he’s added another “must have” to That Guy’s list.
The lights are dim. Soft music plays—barely audible over the hum of the Jacuzzi jets. Candles line the edge of the tub. I breathe deep, inhaling the lavender-scented bath oil and a quiet peace settles in my soul.
There are few times in my life when I’ve had no desire to speak. This is one of them. I want nothing, not even the sound of my voice, not even the sound of his, to threaten the tranquility of this moment.
But then he speaks.
I answer.
And the moment becomes even more perfect.
“You’re beautiful when you’re happy.”
“I’m always happy.”
“You’re always beautiful.”
I swoon so hard I’m sure the floor would meet my face if Jake’s hands weren’t settled on my hips. Big hands that slide up my sides. Masculine hands splay across my stomach. Greedy hands palm my naked breasts as if not doing so would be a sin.
Jake places my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth. He kisses the tip of every finger. Burning me with those gray-green-blue eyes as he leads me to the one spot on the tub that isn’t decorated with candles.
The water is hot, but not unbearably so. I try to stifle a whimper as I submerge myself into the heavily oiled bath, and find it impossible. My lower lip quivers slightly and I breathe out a half sob/half moan.
Even with my eyes closed, I’m aware of Jake standing next to me. I want to look, but looking is what got me here in the first place. The last thing I need is for my greedy vagina to override my brain once again.
Jake’s big body folds around mine. My hands rest on his powerful thighs as he settles behind me and leans me back against him. He dips a sponge into the water then holds it over my breasts and squeezes it—wetting my chest before caressing the skin there.
After he’s done this several times and I’m borderline comatose, he threads his fingers through my hair and massages my scalp. I breathe through my nose. Inhaling the scent of lavender into my lungs and feeling its soothing effect spread through my body.
I don’t even realize I’ve drifted off to sleep until I’m startled awake by those fingers that are no longer on my scalp, but instead skimming the tender lips of my pussy.
“Relax,” he soothes, dragging his nose along my hairline. “I love the way you smell.”
Did he say love?
He said love.
This is the second time.
I said I’d wait until tomorrow.
But I can’t help it.
I have to ask.
“I’m making you fall in love with me, aren’t I?”
Jake Swagger doesn’t scare easy. Nor does he stop the pad of his finger from moving up and down my slit. But he is easily amused. The low, deep rumble of laughter against my back proves it. “How sore is your pussy?”
Really?
“Talk about ruining a moment…”
“I didn’t realize we were having a moment. Answer my question.”
“What question?” I ask only because I like the way my spine tingles when he says, “Pussy.”