Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
But when I think about Jayce and the pain he caused me, my fury rages and suddenly, I don’t care if Trista gets hurt. I have to keep it always in the front of my mind that the revenge is more important than one beautiful woman who just happens to be a great fuck.
Who happens to be a woman I can’t stop thinking about.
Fuck.
The soft knock on my door causes my heart rate to pick up. I give one last fleeting glance at the camera before I call out, “Come on in.”
Trista walks in just as I’m shutting the drawer and my groin immediately tightens when I see her. She’s dressed in regular street clothes, which she wears very well. Dark skinny jeans with a pair of ballet flats and a cream-colored shirt that hangs low on both shoulders, but not completely off. Her hair is radically different. It’s her most beautiful feature by far, and she always wears it spilling all down her back in honey-colored layers looking windblown and just fucked. But tonight, she has it pulled up in a high ponytail on top of her head and it makes me realize how long and elegant her neck is. My lips could spend a lot of time on that neck.
Trista shuts the door and leans back against it as she smiles at me. “You done staring at me or what?”
“Never,” I tell her with a wicked smile. “Because I very much like what I see.”
Adorably, she lowers her eyes as if embarrassed by the compliment.
Even more adorably, she looks back up at me and plays coy. “You said you wanted me here half an hour before my shift started. What did you want to see me about?”
Chuckling, I push my chair back from my desk and start removing my belt. “I want to know why your mouth isn’t on my dick yet.”
Trista wrinkles her nose in distaste, but pushes off the door and starts walking my way. “Do you really have to be so crass and crude?”
I slide my belt free and drop it on the floor. My fingers go to the top button of my pants as I answer her with a nasally, nerdy voice. “Well, gee whiz, Ms. Barnes… I’m sorry. Would you kindly come over here and put your sweet mouth on my penis? I’d be much obliged if you would lick and suck it while you’re at it.”
Trista halts, staring at me blankly. And then her mouth widens into a brilliantly beautiful smile, and she laughs at me while shaking her head. “Oh my God… that was hilarious.”
I waggle my eyebrows at her as I grin back. “I’m told my cock tastes really good too.”
Trista is still chuckling as she walks around my desk and my dick gets harder the closer she gets. She comes to stop in between my legs, her amber eyes locked onto mine. When my fingers move to pull down my zipper, she whispers, “Don’t.”
My hands fall away and hers take over. She slowly lowers the zipper as she murmurs, “Let me do everything.”
My cock jumps at her words, and the head starts to weep as she pulls the front of my underwear down to free me from my confines.
“Lift your hips,” she tells me.
Putting my hands on the armrest of my chair for leverage and so it doesn’t roll out from underneath me, I plant my feet and lift my hips. Trista pulls my pants and my boxer briefs down below my ass to free me.
She stares at me in satisfaction and says, “There… now I have access to your balls so I can play with them.”
I can’t help the bark of laughter that pops out of my mouth. I’ve never found sex to be funny. Haven’t found much in life to be funny with some of the terrible shit I’ve seen in my line of work, but I find I like Trista making me laugh. Apparently, my cock likes it too because it gets harder yet.
Trista kneels between my legs and wraps her hand around the base of my shaft. Her skin feels like fire on me, and I have to resist the urge to thrust into her fist. Leaning forward, she gives a light lick under the base of the head, which produces a drop of pre-cum at the slit. That does not escape her attention and her tongue darts out to catch it. I groan deep within my chest over the erotic sight of her closing her eyes as she tastes me.
When she opens them back up, she gives me a sly smile. “I want you to know, I’m really, really good at oral. Or, at least that’s what I’ve been told.”
While that is very good to know indeed, for some strange reason, I don’t like thinking about the practice she’s had.