Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Huh?”
“Uh, yeah . . .”
She can’t follow their conversation, too lost in what I’m doing to her. So I keep doing it, wanting her to focus on me . . . on us.
Wren fights to hold back a moan, losing the battle spectacularly as I slip two fingers inside her and her pussy clenches around them. I pull them out to grip her thigh punishingly. “Quiet,” I order and she nods, biting her lip so hard, it’s gone white.
I thrust my fingers back inside, fucking her hard as I flutter my tongue over her clit. Her body’s going lax, and I have to lift my shoulder to give her more support. She’s so close I can taste it.
“I’m fine, Oliver. Just a long day, as I’m sure you understand.”
She’s saying his fucking name while she’s impaled on my fingers? I growl against her flesh and nip her clit with my teeth. She quivers instantly, drenching my fingers as she flies apart, coming in waves.
“Ungh . . . ,” she moans, trying her best to be quiet. But I’ve decided that maybe I want Oliver to know exactly what she’s doing, who she’s doing it with, and how good I can make her feel.
I keep going, giving her no mercy as I make her come again.
“I have . . . to go,” Wren says, and the phone clatters to the floor beside me.
Smiling in victory, I thrash my fingers into her as fast as I can. “One more, give me one more, baby.”
Wren curls in reflexively, her hands on my shoulders. But it’s not for balance . . . she shoves me away so hard that I fall on my ass, sprawling in her foyer floor.
“What the—”
Wren has gone from shameless sex goddess to pissed-off honey badger in a blink. Panting and wild-eyed, she steps between my legs, the point of her stiletto dangerously close to my cock, which hasn’t gotten the memo about the mood change. She bends down and snarls directly in my face, “Do not call me that. Get out, Jesse.”
Trying to make sense of what changed, I ask, “Don’t call you what? Baby? I always call you that when we’re—”
Thankfully, I don’t have to decide on what to call what we’re doing because Wren interrupts me. “I know. That’s what you call everyone. Get out.”
She yanks me up from the floor, pushing and swatting at me as she shoos me toward the door. “Wren, I don’t—” I stop, realizing that I’m about to lie. I do, or I have, called other women “baby” before, but there’s been no one since Wren. She’s the only woman I’ve been with since we started whatever we were, and I’ve been hung up on her ever since. My dick doesn’t even notice anyone else. “I haven’t been—”
“Shut up. I don’t need to hear whatever charming excuses you’re about to pull outta your ass.”
The next thing I know, the door is slammed shut in my face. I blink, still not sure exactly what happened. I lean on the doorframe, knowing she can still hear me. “Wren, it’s not like that. I swear.”
I hear her heels clicking away from the door, and then the lights turn off. Angrily, I slam a palm to the door once.
Fuck!
A tiny, evil, petty voice inside me says, At least she’s not going out with Doucheboy.
Small consolation.
Chapter 9
WREN
It’d seemed fairly innocuous—a simple manila folder of paperwork—something I receive every day. It wasn’t until I opened it that I realized it’s a copy of Chrissy’s injunction filing to stop construction at Township.
But that’s not the worst part.
I stare at the Post-it note on the front of the injunction. I can almost hear Oliver reading it inside my head, with all the naughty innuendo.
Sorry I missed seeing you for dinner last night. I hope you’re feeling loads better after such a long, hard day. I was up all night thinking of you. —Oliver
“Thinking of you” is underlined twice, like I wouldn’t read between the lines. He might as well have written that he jacked off to the spank-bank version of my sounds of pleasure.
I slam my head to the desk, feeling exposed and vulnerable as reality slaps me in the face again. I had an explosive orgasm with Jesse between my thighs while on the phone with Oliver. And there’s zero chance Oliver didn’t know exactly what was happening. He had to have recognized the noises I was making and probably heard Jesse whispering in the background too.
What was that? Other than crazy.
Who does that? Not Wren Ford, that’s for fucking sure.
I wonder if that counts as a threesome? Or is “aural” sex a thing? I have no idea, and I’m not googling it at work. Probably not at home, either, because there’s no telling what I’ll find out, and there’s no going back to unknowing.