Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“He forced me to come six times.” From the corner of his eyes he saw her mouth drop open.
It was a minute before she spoke. “Forced you?”
“By the end, I was begging to sleep.” He closed his eyes, remembering. “It hurt so good though.”
When he looked over his shoulders, Andrea’s cheeks were bright red.
“Did I break you?”
She shook her head. “No, but I kind of want to kill you and take over your life.”
“Evil Bitch.” He smiled, pulling off his shirt to change into the new one. There was nothing he could do about his jeans or heels, but at least he didn’t look as hoochy as before.
Andrea hopped off the table, lightly punched his shoulder, and crossed to the door. “If you weren’t so nice, I’d hate you.”
“I’m skipping lunch today.”
She nodded as if she’d expected it. “Might want to stash a change of clothes here for next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
Her look was shrewd. “A guy who puts that dreamy look on your face deserves more than one night. If you don’t take advantage I honestly will take your place.”
Her hollow threat scratched at sensitivities Hop wasn’t ready to examine and revealed lies he’d been telling himself all morning. There was no way last night was a one-and-done, for either of them.
Hop was still figuring out exactly how he felt about that.
And why it made him so nervous.
* * *
Hop was digging through his closet during his lunch break when the first text came. Distracted with outfit possibilities, it didn’t sink in at first.
He needed to decide what he was going to wear and get back to work. And he’d found an old backpack to fill with an emergency ensemble. No matter how slutty it made him feel, he couldn’t deny Andrea’s practicality.
He tossed a pair of jeans he’d used to practice stitching techniques in the bag. Next he chose a top from his favorite secondhand shop. The fabric was soft and worn, but not old. He’d cut the sleeves and added decals for a punk look. He’d loved it at the time, but it didn’t suit his style anymore.
Another buzz came as he was choosing accessories. He figured it was either Andrea telling him to hurry up or Jae reminding him about rehearsal. Neither was important enough to tear him away from his task. But when another text came in a minute later, Hop was sufficiently curious to stop in the middle of pulling on a clean pair of jeans to pick up his phone.
Have you eaten lunch?
Inexplicably, Rafe’s innocent question made him nervous. There wasn’t anything odd about the text besides the unexpectedness of it, but Hop was transported to the foyer of Rafe’s apartment. The memory of Rafe’s rules washed over him and he cursed internally before reading the second message.
Rule 2. Have you forgotten already?
He could hear Rafe’s disapproval and resented his own immediate remorse. With dread, he scrolled to the final text.
Call me.
He dialed Rafe’s number and sat on his bed, chewing his nail.
“Sorry,” Hop blurted, as soon as the call connected. “I didn’t know it was you and I was busy.”
Rafe was silent. Hop’s knee bounced uncontrollably.
“How can you make sure that never happens again?” He sounded calm and patient with an undercurrent of delicious menace.
“Um...” Hop racked his brain. “I could give you a special ringtone.”
“Good. Do that and call me back.” He hung up without waiting for Hop’s reply.
Hop blinked at his phone for a good second before doing what Rafe had ordered. Without thinking much about it because the need to call Rafe back was at the forefront of his mind, he chose “Worship” by Years & Years. When he was finished, he pressed the call button.
His knees still bounced.
“Done?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rafe hummed in approval. “Now, did you eat lunch?”
It was so tempting to brush the question off. It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d grabbed a sandwich, but he hadn’t. “Not yet. I had to come home to change. I’ll pick something up on the way back to work.”
“How much time do you have?”
Hop looked at the clock on his dresser. Shit, he was going to be late. “Twenty minutes.”
“You won’t have time.”
“It’s okay. I only work until two today.”
“Hop.” Rafe’s voice was full of censure.
“There’s a vending machine at work, I’ll grab something.”
“No. I’ll take care of it this time. Are you finished changing?”
Picking at the frayed denim around his knees, he said, “Not quite.”
Rafe’s tone deepened. “What are you wearing?”
Hop closed his eyes as the sound of Rafe’s gravelly voice rolled over him. “A pair of baby pink skinny jeans around my knees and rainbow mesh briefs.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I’m in my bedroom. Mom’s at work.”
“Jerk off. You have five minutes. Don’t come.”
Hand squeezing his phone, Hop bit back a moan. He’d had phone sex before but this felt different. It wasn’t about getting off, it was about submission. Rafe was making him prove himself even from a distance.