Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, “this is a surprise.”
“It was supposed to be. You’re ruining the surprise.”
He teased the line of the belt with his tongue, and I shivered all over. “It’s still a surprise.”
“Don’t…don’t we have a reservation?”
“We have somewhere to be, yes.”
His hand slid under the lace of my thong. He trailed a finger down the seam of my pussy, feeling the slick wetness for him. He looked up at me, grinning like a devil.
“Someone is ready for me.”
“So ready,” I panted.
His eyes were on fire when he asked, “Do you want to come on my hand or my dick?”
“Yes,” was the only correct answer.
He laughed, slipping two fingers inside of me and pressing the heel of his palm against my clit. I shuddered at the intense pressure. I was shameless enough to ride his hand, wanting the release that only he could provide. I might as well toss my vibrator for all the use it had been getting since I’d started seeing Whitt.
“Oh God,” I groaned.
His fingers curled inward, hitting a spot so perfectly that I cried out from shock. Every nerve in my body went into overdrive. Heightened awareness suddenly sharp as glass. And then I unleashed.
My body released like I’d been waiting for that orgasm all day. It had taken a matter of minutes with his dirty mouth and practiced fingers. I was the only one who could normally get me off that fast.
He pulled his fingers out of me with a devious look on his face. Then, he came to his feet, his dexterous fingers already unbuckling his suit pants. He hefted my ass onto the kitchen counter and thrust into me, riding out the last waves of my climax.
“Fuck,” I gasped.
“God, your pussy is so fucking tight and so fucking wet.”
He slammed into me, hard and fast. His cock lengthening, even as he fucked me. I reached back for anything to hold on to, grasping the upper cabinets and having a sudden fear that I’d rip them from their mounting. His grip was just as harsh on my hips as he rode me. The passion so strong that neither of us could have waited even a second longer. Let alone until the end of our evening.
“Close,” I said, unable to believe that he could milk another one out of me so quickly. And yet…
“Come for me,” he said.
Then, he gripped the back of my neck and wrenched me forward. Our lips collided and tongues clashed. There was no finesse in the embrace, just power and need. A drive to get us both there a second quicker than we would have otherwise.
My nails dug into his suit shirt. He growled into my mouth. Our movements picked up. And then there was nothing but euphoria. I hit my second release like an avalanche, picking up speed and force. It triggered his a second later, and I felt him hot and wet inside of me.
He leaned his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingled in the space as we both panted.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Happy birthday,” he teased, pressing another kiss to my lips.
He slid out of me, and I dropped to my feet, dizzy with the aftereffects.
“Do you still want to go to dinner?”
He smiled. “Obviously.”
I didn’t know how I’d make it through without wanting to jump his bones again.
We both spent a few minutes cleaning ourselves up, and then he was opening the front door and escorting me to his car. Our fingers entwined between the seats as he drove us to the restaurant.
But when we pulled up to Flips—a local bar that served bar food and was known for hot dogs, of all things—I was side-eyeing the fuck out of him.
“Flips?”
“Yep.”
“Not La Sirena or West Table or Funky Door?”
He laughed. “If you had preferences, you should have said them.”
“But I thought you said we had a reservation,” I said, confused.
Flips did not need a reservation.
“I didn’t exactly say that,” he said as he parked out front.
Now, I was really giving him a look. He hadn’t said that, had he? He’d just said that we had somewhere to be. What the hell did that mean? I’d been too deep in the throes of passion to question it.
Whitt stepped out of the car and jogged around to the passenger side to open my door. He helped me out, all while my quizzical look remained.
“You told me to have fun. Could you do the same?” he asked with a shit-eating grin.
“I’m just saying gourmet hot dogs are not my idea of fun, sir.”
“Noted.”
He was smirking as he led me toward the bar in our fancy attire. I felt way overdressed for the occasion, but so was he. We’d at least make a spectacle together.
He tugged the door open for me, and I entered the darkened interior. My eyes tried to adjust to the absolute black inside. What in the hell was going on?