Things We Burn Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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Though the new, fragile part of me that was now a mother urged me to go inside, I held onto Kane’s gaze and let him put me on the back of his bike.

Once we got going, Mabel was a constant worry at the back of my mind. Though that worry quieted under the purr of the bike, the exhilarating speed of us hurtling down coastal roads. My arms tightened around Kane, dipping my fingertips under his tee then down to the waistband of his jeans.

Then … lower.

His cock was hard underneath my palm.

There was a thrill in resting my hand there. I wasn’t going to move it; I didn’t think that was responsible. But the potential of my doing so was enough.

We didn’t ride very long. Kane pulled the bike off to a side road then into an empty beach parking lot. The sun set earlier that time of year, so the dusk made it so we were barely seen when he shut the lights of the bike off.

As soon as he did that, Kane hoisted me off the bike, helmet flying off.

He didn’t speak as his hands dove into my hair, tugging the tie from my hair then pulling at the strands.

I kissed him back with the same ferocity. There it was… What we’d been muting, tempering in the house with a sleeping baby. Now there was nothing but open air, waves crashing against rocks and sand, the low hum of a car driving past, the hazy illumination of our shapes from headlights.

We were almost entirely obscured from the road. A passing driver couldn’t see us, but if you pulled into the parking lot you could.

My heart pounded.

Kane’s teeth were at my neck as his hands plunged into my jeans.

I gasped as he bypassed my panties and went right in.

He let out a low hiss as his fingers found me wet.

He didn’t say a word as he unbuttoned my jeans, forced them down and turned me around, hand going to the small of my back and pushing me down.

My palms steadied themselves on the seat of the bike, nails scratching at the leather.

Kane steadied me with one hand on my hips as he freed himself then without pause, he slammed into me.

He’d been careful before this, mindful of my body, worried about me healing.

He wasn’t worried about anything now.

We weren’t Mom and Dad. We weren’t anything but two animals under the moonlight.

He bunched my hair in his hand then wrenched it back.

My scalp radiated with glorious pain as the rest of my body succumbed to inconceivable pleasure.

He continued pounding relentlessly. My mind went hazy as my body shuddered and exploded over and over again.

How many times, I couldn’t know. Eventually, Kane growled, roaring as he released into me.

We were both panting heavily when we were done. My limbs burned.

Carefully, Kane pulled out of me, slowly raising my jeans back up and buttoning them while I steadied myself on the seat of the bike.

He turned me around, kissing me gently on the lips. I could feel his smile.

“Hottest piece I’ve ever had, Chef. After giving birth to my baby…” His hands ran over me. “Fuck…”

I couldn’t help but smile back, my body singing with electricity.

“How about we get a drink, greasy food, then repeat this on the way home?”

I couldn’t think of anything better.

I held my breath as we walked in the door of the house. It wasn’t completely dark, but all the overhead lights were off, and only the soft lamplight from the living room illuminated the house. The TV was on, and Calliope sat on the sofa. Not looking at it—instead, tapping on her phone, a glass of wine in her hand.

She glanced up at us. “This is my first one.” She held the glass up. “I didn’t sit here and get drunk with your baby, don’t worry. Though it was tempting; you have good wine.” She drained the glass then stood up, glancing between the two of us.

She wore a knowing smile. “You had fun.” Not a question, and somehow, it communicated that she suspected we took her advice about public sex.

I didn’t blush nor feel embarrassed, for whatever reason. Maybe it was because I was thoroughly satisfied or because I felt comfortable with Calliope.

“Fuck yeah, we did,” Kane beamed back at her. “We’re gotta send you a fruit basket or something as a thank you.”

She shook her head, reaching down to snag the bottle of wine and shove the cork back in it. “This will do,” she said, shaking it.

“Where’s the baby?” I asked suddenly, as if I were just noticing Mabel wasn’t there.

“Sleeping,” Calliope replied. “She’s been down since about seven-ish.”

I stared at her. “Down?”

“In her bed.”

“In her bed,” I repeated, dumbfounded. “How did you do that?”

Mabel did not just ‘go down’ in her bed. There was rocking. Feeding. The arm drop test, a tense transfer. And then only 50 percent of the time it worked for an hour, at most, before the whole dance started again.



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