Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Charlie’s breathing grows ragged as Beckett starts licking her in fervor. Sucking her clit in his mouth before flicking his tongue over it, again and again, until she’s writhing on the bed. She spreads her legs even wider, splayed out for him like a goddamn feast.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I murmur, my lips grazing the side of her breast. I lick my way to her nipple and circle it with my tongue.
Beckett’s face is buried between her thighs. He groans, and I see him reach down to stroke himself, fucking his own hand as he fucks her with his mouth.
“Look at what you do to him,” I tell Charlie, squeezing her tits. “He can’t get enough of you. Neither of us can.”
Her breathing gets choppier.
“You’re ours,” I say in her ear. “Fucking ours, baby. And we’re yours.”
My words seem to have an effect on both of them. I can’t fight my amusement as they both come without warning. Beckett shoots into his hand, grunting against her pussy, while she grinds his face as her orgasm shudders through her. She’s barely recovered from it before she’s pulling me on top of her, desperately grasping my cock, trying to put it inside her.
“I got you,” I say, curling my fingers over hers.
I thrust deep, and it’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Being inside her. It’s like every part of me is wrapped up in her, in this moment. She gasps, and her inner muscles grip me tight, her nails digging into my back as she tries to get me even closer, deeper. I give her every single inch. Everything I have. I’m tethered to her in a way that goes beyond anything I’ve ever felt. I glance up, catching Beckett’s eye as he watches us. He feels it too. I can tell.
As I fuck her, I feel every pulse of her body, every heartbeat, and when I finally find my release inside her, it knocks the breath right out of me. Groaning, I collapse on top of her for a moment before rolling us over so I don’t crush her with my body weight. Beckett lies beside us, his arm draped over both of us, his breathing slowing as sleep begins to pull him under.
I’m exhausted too, but my mind is still racing.
I can’t stop thinking about how much I love this, and the thought of anything coming between us makes my chest clench. As much as I’ve been trying to figure out my next move, I realize now that I already know what I need to do.
I slide out of bed, careful not to wake them. They’re both sound asleep now, Beckett holding Charlie close, the two of them looking peaceful and content. I grab my phone from the nightstand, staring at the message sitting in my inbox, awaiting my response.
I open the email and start typing.
Tessa, I appreciate the offer more than you know, but after careful consideration, I’ve decided not to accept the position. Please let Pamela know, and thanks again.
I hesitate, only for a second, then hit Send, a strange sense of relief washing over me. This isn’t about rejecting the job—it’s about choosing them.
Choosing this life, right here, right now.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHARLOTTE
It’s basically mainstream now
MY DAD’S BIRTHDAY IS THE WEEK BEFORE GRADUATION, SO I TAKE A DAY off from the lab to drive out to Hamden for lunch. I’m always happy to see my family, but I can’t fight the nervous flutter in my chest. I have so much to tell them today. Like, a lot of shit to tell them.
And maybe Dad’s birthday isn’t the time to do it, but I’ve learned my lesson after the Harrison fiasco. I’m not keeping secrets from my family anymore.
“Hi, peanut!” Dad greets me at the door with his usual bear hug. “Glad you made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I smile, hugging him back before stepping inside.
Mom is already in hostess mode, humming as she sets the dining room table. Ava is home from New York this weekend, and she’s prepping a salad in the kitchen when I walk in, while Dad goes to rejoin Oliver out on the back patio. Oliver’s wife is absent—he mentioned in our family group chat that Kat had to work this weekend.
Ava and I set the table. We’re eating in the dining room because it’s still too cold to sit on the patio. Oliver and Dad are grilling the steaks in the backyard, bundled up in hoodies and hats.
After lunch, Mom passes us plates of birthday cake, and the Kingston tradition of sharing our met goals and accomplishments promptly commences.
“Char, why don’t you kick us off?” Mom says. “Any news about grad school?”
There it is. The opening.
I set down my fork and say, “I was accepted into every grad school I applied to except for two.”