Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I nod, playing along and taking her instructions seriously. I wave down the bartender. “Could I grab a pen if you have one?”
“Sure thing.”
Chloe laughs. “I was kidding! Luke!”
The bartender finds a pen behind the bar and hands it across to me. I take a cocktail napkin and do exactly as she says, adding two little boxes underneath the question, one for yes and one for no.
When I slide the note her way, I tell her she’s supposed to check one.
“Do I have to check one now? I’m going to be late for gym class.”
I lean in and kiss her in front of every person at that bar.
“Say yes.”
“Yes.” She smiles against my mouth.
I shift on the barstool, grab my wallet from my back pocket, and toss down cash.
I’m tugging Chloe out of the bar before she even realizes what’s happening.
“I didn’t get to finish my cocktail,” she protests half-heartedly as I push the door open and we spill out into the night. It’s raining now, though it was bone-dry when I went into the bar a few minutes ago. It’s just a summer rain shower. It’ll be done in ten minutes, but I don’t want to wait it out. We make a run for it, trying to avoid the worst of the puddles on our way to my car. It’s parked around the side of the bar, surrounded by mud. I swoop Chloe up into my arms so her shoes don’t get ruined, and she squeals and clambers closer, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“You’re insane!” she shouts.
I tug open the back door of my car and drop her down onto the bench seat. “Scoot.”
Harper’s booster seat is in the way, but I unbuckle it and toss it behind the second row.
“What the hell are you doing!?” Chloe asks, backing up against the door opposite me like she’s trying to get away.
I close the door, locking us in. The windows are already foggy. The air in here is warm and muggy.
“What does it look like? I’m taking advantage of my girlfriend.”
“Luke.”
“You didn’t think I was just going to take us home so we could get roped into a game of Monopoly with my sister, did you? No, Chloe.”
I take her foot in my hand and start sliding her sandals off. One gets tossed to the floor, the other is…somewhere. I’m too busy to notice where it lands. She has these jean shorts on that are so goddamn short I could just slip my hand right up them. I’ll bet she’s already turned on. I want to feel it.
“This is absurd! You barely fit back here.”
My responding smile is nothing short of sinister. “I can be resourceful.”
“Have you done this before?” Her jaw drops. “You have. When?”
“In high school.”
She rolls her eyes. “I can just see you back then, the cocky jock. Girls probably lined up outside of your car, waiting for their turn in your back seat. How long was the line, Luke? Around the parking lot? Around the block?” I smile, and she reaches out to playfully shove my shoulder. “You’re supposed to deny it!”
I come up and over her, planting a kiss on her lips. My hands drag up her legs, from her slender calves up over her soft thighs. Fuck me. My hand tightens reflexively.
Teenage Luke would have given his right arm to be in the back seat of a car with Chloe, and now it’s hard to believe I have her pinned underneath me, her lips on mine, her soft moans escaping before she can help it.
This is what happens when you want something, constantly. Watching her in my kitchen, seeing her take Harper under her wing, memorizing her laugh, her smile, the way she pours a spoonful of sugar in her coffee and then every morning, without fail, adds twice as much more before she’s satisfied.
You’re a three scoops of sugar kind of girl, Chloe.
And you’re mine.
I lean down to take her lips again, and I stretch my body over hers. She fits easily on the seat, but I don’t. One leg is on the floor taking some of my weight off her as I start to unbutton her shorts and tug down the denim. Her little blue panties sit askew. I don’t even have them down to her knees before my hand covers that sensitive skin between her thighs. The wetness I find nearly undoes me. My hand strokes forward and back, rubbing, teasing. I can’t help but watch her. There’s enough light that I can see her every expression. Her head tips back, her delicate chin quivering with every unsteady breath. I slide a finger inside her, and when I feel the unmistakable heat, my breath hitches.
I’ll never get enough of being close to her like this. It will never be enough.
“More” falls from her lips like the desperate plea of a tortured woman, and I don’t deny her.