Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“At least you’re still decent at taking my dick down your pretty throat,” he bites out, though his words are lacking the venom from earlier. He pulls out, painting my lips with remnants of his leaking come.
I kiss the tip of his dick, eyes locking on to his intense blues. “That was fun. Ready for dessert?”
His nostrils flare. “Dessert?”
“Calm yourself,” I tease as I tuck him back into his boxers and slacks. “Not me. Ice cream. I got your favorite.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“Not yet.” I stand up and press a quick kiss to his lips. “You will.”
* * *
Turns out, the mean, tough billionaire has a thing for Cherry Garcia. Leave it to Ben & Jerry to smooth things over with my surly guy. I’d bought several different four-ounce mini cups for us to try. Once he’d tasted the Cherry Garcia, he stopped trying the others and leaned away any time I tried to steal a bite.
He is so my boyfriend and doesn’t realize it yet.
“I don’t like that smile,” he mutters, polishing off the rest of his container. “It’s a devious one.”
I adopt a more innocent grin. “Just happy is all.”
He bristles at the word “happy.” “I don’t like it.”
“Too bad.” I set down my mini cup of Chocolate Fudge Brownie. “Get used to it.” I reach over to place my hand in his. “It’s okay for you to be happy too.”
His phone buzzes from his pocket and relief floods over his features. I give him some space to take the call while I clean up our dinner and dessert mess. He greets someone by the name of Ulrich and the rest of the conversation is a bunch of affirmative grunts. By the time I’ve put away the leftovers and washed the last dish, he’s ended his call. I sneak a peek at the way he bends over in front of Shrimp’s cage, petting our little bird on the head.
Shrimp adopted him, so he’s our bird now.
I bite back a smile and then make my way over to him. “What movie do you want to watch?”
“Oh no,” he deadpans, “I left the coupon book at home. Guess we’ll have to watch the news instead.”
I smack at his chest. “I’d rather stare at the wall.” Or you.
He must feel something similar because his glare is heavy and probing, cutting into me like a blade. Seeing parts of me I’m not keen on sharing. But, if he needs this, then I’ll give it to him. Win needs to feel in control.
“Take your clothes off,” he growls, his eyes lingering at my bare shoulder. “I need to see my investment.”
Ignoring his poor attempt to put a wall around his heart, I peel off my shirt. His tongue peeks out and runs a delicious trail along his lower lip as he drinks in how my breasts are nearly spilling from my bra.
“Like what you see?”
“It’ll do,” he rumbles, his voice playing for uninterested but also failing.
I unbutton my shorts and then shimmy them down my thighs. He takes a step closer, his nostrils flaring. The denim falls to the floor at my ankles. I step out of them and peer up at him.
“This red thong has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever worn.”
His confession makes my heart thud double time in my chest. I reach up to unknot his tie. He narrows his eyes, jaw clenching, as I slip it from around his neck. In a teasing way, I flick my way through each button on his shirt and the ones on his vest. He’d already divested himself of his suit jacket before dessert, so all I have to do is make him lose the vest and dress shirt. Once I’ve peeled off the vest, I let my palms roam over his undershirt, untucking it from his slacks so I can slip my fingers to his hard, bare skin. Everything about Winston is so perfect.
“I missed you,” I confess, shivering at the possessive grip on my ass.
He ignores me, certainly not returning the sentiment, choosing to squeeze my ass hard enough I yelp. Dipping down, he captures my earlobe between his teeth and tugs. His hot breath tickling my ear sends a shudder of excitement down my spine. I push his shirt off his shoulders, and he lets go of me long enough to wrestle out of it. Once it’s gone, I greedily play with his abs again, running my fingers along the sharp grooves.
“For an old man, you have the nicest abs I’ve ever seen.”
He grabs my hips, turning me away from him, and pushes me onto the bed. I land on my elbows, my ass in the air. Like the predator he is, he pounces on me, not wasting a second. The heat of his body envelops me from behind. I’m awarded with the press of his cock through his clothes against my backside. His large, capable hand teases along the crack of my ass, hooking into the material of the thong and pulls it aside.