Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
I reach behind me to pull down the zipper and raise the dress above my head, adding it to the pile of clothes on the carpet.
“Much better.” He grabs his long, hard cock in his hand, his gaze traveling up to my breasts. “I love your fucking tits. Pinch your nipples for me.” I do as he asks, and he licks his lips.
Ethan makes room for himself between my legs and slides his fingers up my left thigh. He throws my left leg over his shoulder and kisses the inseam of my thigh as he inches his way inside me.
“Fuck,” he says, his big, strong hand gripping my hip as he moves faster. “You feel so fucking good, little lamb.” He dips down to kiss my breast and says, “Mine.” Then, he kisses the other. “Mine.” He kisses me on the lips. “Mine.”
“Yours,” I whisper. “I was always yours.”
He pushes deeper inside me, forcing me to take all of him at once. “Damn right you were.”
I moan in response, too focused on the heat spreading from my cheeks to my toes. It doesn’t take long for Ethan to make me tremble beneath his bulky frame. After another mind-blowing release, I’m riding a sex high that has me teetering on the edge.
He mumbles a series of groans and curses under his breath, gripping me hard as his body spasms. His chest rises and falls, his breathing still labored.
Our eyes meet for a second, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a wicked grin. “I’m never letting you go, Mia.” His voice is almost a whisper.
Pushing the sweat-slick hair off his forehead, I smile. “I don’t want you to.”
He winks. “Good girl.”
Six months later
“Good game,” Will says, strolling over to the bench in the locker room, a towel wrapped around his waist. “We’re celebrating tonight. You coming out with us?”
After a big win in Boston, all of the single guys on the team are going out to a local bar. I have no interest in drinking or hanging out with any women other than Mia. In fact, I have plans with the other woman in my life.
I called my mom before the game. It had been too long since the last time we spoke on the phone and even longer since the last time I saw her in person. Our relationship has been strained for a while now, but she’s alone here in Boston, in a massive house that’s too large for one person and with no one other than servants to help her.
I shake my head and stuff my jersey into my bag. “No, I can’t. I have plans.”
“C’mon, Waters,” Liam West says from behind me. “Don’t be a pussy. Come out with us.”
I glance over at him and smirk. “I have somewhere to be. I will next time.”
“Where are you going?” Will asks, plopping down on the bench next to me.
“I’m going over to the house to see my mom.”
“Oh.” Will’s mouth opens wide in shock. “You haven’t been there since…” his voice trails off, because he knows it’s been over thirteen years since I stepped foot inside my childhood home.
We moved not long after the accident. My parents couldn’t stand the constant reminder of losing Erik and neither could I. Until now, I had no desire to return.
After I leave the arena, I drive to my mom’s house. A shiver rolls down my spine when I park in the circular driveway out front. This place has always felt more like a museum to me than a home. I stare up at the massive Victorian that spans the length of the property. The high pillars, painted shutters, and the covered front porch look exactly the same as they did the last time I was here. Not a single thing has changed about my childhood home.
As I approach the front door, my mom opens the door instead of the butler. She must’ve heard me coming.
A smile stretches across her withered face, and then she rushes forward, taking my face in her hands as a single tear streams down her cheek. “My baby,” she whispers. “You’re finally home.”
I smile as she releases her grip on me. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“Good, good.” She presses her hand to my back and guides me into the house, ushering me toward the kitchen. “I just made a pot of tea. Have some with me.”
I don’t drink caffeine because it messes with my game, but I can’t refuse my mother in her home. “Cream, two sugars,” I say as she fixes us two cups.
We sit at the table in the corner of the kitchen, right next to a wall of windows that overlook the backyard.
She pushes a cup in front of me with a smile. “I was surprised to hear from you.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have created so much distance between us. My relationship was strained with Dad. It got in the way of us, and for that, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you that in person.”