Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Outside my room, Ryan whistles something tuneless and I turn Gab so that her ass is out of his line of sight if he happens to step into the room. “Now, maybe you should put your panties on before I forget where we are.”
“Promises, promises,” she laughs, and in my heart, in that moment, I know she’s the only girl for me.
When Gab’s dressed and ready to go, I lead her out into the reception area. While I’ve been busy with her tattoo, the other artists have finished with their clients. Ryan, Darian, and Phil are all sitting around shooting the breeze. Carl’s here too, catching up with shop gossip, which goes quiet as soon as they see me and Gabriella. “Did he do a good job?” Ryan asks, teasingly.
Gabriella nods. “It’s perfect. He’s a genius.”
Carl’s ice-blue eyes widen, and he nods with satisfaction. I guess it’s good to hear clients are happy with the standard of the artwork around here.
“So, I’ll see you soon,” I say, bending to kiss Gab’s cheek. She blushes when our eyes meet, conscious that we have an interested audience.
“Yeah,” she says. “Thanks again.”
I hold the door for her and watch her leave. When I turn back to my colleagues, they go from silent to laughing like hyenas in seconds.
“Seriously, dude. That girl has a lady boner for you and you’re treating her like she’s made of glass. Are you seriously not tapping that?“
“None of your fucking business,” I growl.
“She’s not a girl you tap,” Carl says, drawing the attention of the rest of the disrespectful assholes in the place. “If you guys can’t recognize wife material when you see it, I need to teach you some lessons.”
“Wife material?” Ryan laughs like it’s the funniest thing he ever heard.
“Yes.” Carl focuses his attention on me. “You need to hold on to that one. I got a good feeling about her.”
19
GABRIELLA
It’s two weeks since Blake inked my skin, and my birthday tattoo has healed nicely. I don’t have to wear soft, stretchy clothes anymore, and seeing it uncovered makes my heart skip with joy.
In that time, I’ve used the dial-a-dick WhatsApp group three times and spent time with Kain, Dalton, and Blake separately.
Kain came over in the morning before classes, and I told him my fantasy was for him to bend me over my desk and fuck me from behind. I was hoping I could keep everything tightly wrapped up in a strictly physical bow, encouraging him to be unfeeling and dominant so I could relax into his remoteness and control.
But, while the sex was like that, after, he lay on the bed next to me and kissed me so deeply and thoroughly it was as though he was trying to discover the taste of my soul.
Dalton wanted to learn another recipe, but amongst the groceries he brought with him was a lemon tart that he’d made from scratch. He fed me mouthfuls of sweet crumbling pastry and tart creamy filling that made my taste buds clamor for more.
After, I sat in his lap facing the window, and relished the way he controlled my body, even from beneath. It was easy to let Dalton take what he needed, even as I held back the part of me that wanted to sink against his big chest and never let him go.
I thought Blake would be his usual funny but slightly reserved self, hiding behind his humor so he wouldn’t have to reveal what’s behind the mask, but rather than pushing my boundaries physically, he wanted to be close to me. He wanted to remember sweet things from the past, memories I’d forgotten, but he could recall with clarity that painted pictures as vivid as the tattoos he inks. Even though I asked him to fuck me from behind, we somehow ended up face-to-face, his hips working into me with a slow, languid precision that felt more like relationship sex than our dial-a-dick deal. I kept my eyes closed, because staring into his beautiful gray eyes was like tumbling into a storm cloud; intense and tempestuous, filled with emotion that seemed about to rain down all over me.
I came like I was breaking open and he kissed me as though he wanted to gather up my fragments and put me back together.
And I felt myself slipping, my fingers losing a grip on the cliff-edge of my reserve, struggling to keep to the rules of the deal.
It’s a Friday night and I’m standing outside Ellie’s house, waiting for her to open up. It’s my turn to babysit — Ellie’s schedule cycles between me, Celine, Dornan, and Lara, her mom, and we’re all happy to help. Noah’s an easy kid. He’s always asleep when I arrive and so far he hasn’t woken up when Ellie, Colby, Micky, and Seb have been out of the house. They never go far, wanting to stay close enough to return in an emergency.