Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Is this good?” Kipp practically pants, forcing me to open my eyes to momentarily meet his.
I choke down another whimper, quickly examine the mess, and mindlessly nod.
“Good,” Nolan wolfishly groans, commanding my gaze to his. “Now, what do you want us to do next, little rabbit?”
Me is the answer I wanna give and watching his tongue inch towards mine tells me it’s the one he wants to hear.
Chapter 8
Nolan
Thud.
Instantly, my hand reaches over to grab the bat I keep beside my bed.
I’ve got a gun too, but that shit’s in the bottom drawer, and this fucking intruder is already in the goddamn room.
“Ou!” is quietly hissed in a soft, familiar feminine tone prompting me to immediately release the weapon.
Inwardly sigh.
Why didn’t I just assume it was her?
It’s not like I forgot she’s in the goddamn apartment.
That shit’s fucking impossible.
The combination of her laugh, her making Kipp laugh, and the faintest smell of vanilla every time she fucking walks by are so fucking intoxicating, I could barely finish the one beer I managed to open at dinner.
Hell, because of that shit, I barely ate dinner.
I honestly can’t remember the last time I had that much fun during a meal.
Or at our dinner table.
Not to say that me and Kipp don’t have a good time together.
We do.
Car shit, mixed with the occasional sports shit, tends to be entertaining, but we don’t sit at the table.
And we damn sure don’t usually sit that fucking close.
Never with a woman wedged between us.
I’m not entirely sure what the fuck is going on here.
Not entirely sure I hate it.
Not entirely sure The Kid does either.
What I do know?
Each of us touching her…at the same time…felt…like the rightest shit I’ve ever felt in my whole life.
And that?
That’s fucking unsettling.
Not because there’s anything wrong with being attracted to The Kid or Bunny or both at once but because the three of us being together…for just…a fucking moment…shouldn’t have me convinced that that shit is the way it’s supposed to be.
Like every fucking twisted thing up to this point in life was building to this.
Life isn’t a goddamn Rubix Cube.
And us…together…isn’t the fucking thing solved.
Rolling over onto my back, I grumble my question just above a whisper, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I need to pee,” she replies at the same volume.
Yeah, when I left my bedroom door cracked open it wasn’t for that.
Then again, if I’m up front about the shit, I don’t really know why I did it.
Maybe I hoped she’d come in here?
Hoped that I was wrong about her ending up in Kipp’s bed, underneath him, screaming his name while I listened with my dick in my hand pretending, I was the one splitting her open with my cock.
Filling her with my cum.
Because pretending for me is enough.
Or at least it has to be enough.
The Kid wants her.
He’s made that shit crystal fucking clear since the second he saw her.
I’m an asshole, but I ain’t that type of asshole.
Not to him.
Never to him.
His needs come first…even in the sack.
“Your bathroom’s closer,” Bunny innocently claims, moon illuminating her squirming figure being covered by an oversized white t-shirt.
It’s not.
At least not by enough for it to matter.
Rather than argue the obvious, I kick my chin in the direction of my ensuite and tuck both hands behind my head, loose sheet inching downward to rest right underneath my bellybutton.
The whole process doesn’t take long, and once she’s out, her gorgeous frame rises to the tips of her toes in an attempt to do the thing she didn’t do when entering the room.
Not disturb me.
“Still awake, Cinderella,” I good-naturedly tease only to chortle when I see her fighting the urge to smirk. “Your prince might pass out that fast, but I don’t.”
“You know I always wondered if he snored.”
Bewilderment has me angling my head slightly to the side. “What?”
“To balance out the charming.” Her body creeps a little closer to the edge of my mattress giving me an even better view of her toned thighs and shapely calves. “Like maybe he was so good with words – supposedly because I didn’t really see that in any of the renditions – to make up for the fact he rattled the headboard in the wrong way.”
Oh, I can show this little runaway princess that I know how to rattle it in the right one.
Allowing my eyes to continue drifting upward, they drink in the lack of curves being revealed under what’s basically a fucking tarp yet stop dead in their tracks at the sight of her hardened nipples managing to peek through.
The idea of having one in my palm and the other in my mouth leads to me mindlessly declaring, “Get in bed.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t immediately object.
Or refuse.
Or tell me to go fuck myself.
Instead, she pulls her hair to one side of her face.