Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“I’ll go make coffee,” I tell him, and he cleans himself, nodding. I walk to the kitchen and see the sun slowly coming up. I start his coffee and put it aside while I do mine, and I’m about to bring it to him when he comes in wearing loose gym shorts and all you see is his cock bouncing while he walks. “I was bringing it back to you.” He doesn’t say anything; he just comes in and kisses my neck, and I move my head to the side to give him better access.
“Thank you,” he says, picking up his espresso cup and taking a sip. Grabbing my hand, he walks to the living room and sits on the same couch we did yesterday. This time, he puts his arm around me. “Watch the sun rise with me,” he says, kissing my temple, and I don’t say anything. I just sit here watching the sun rise with him.
“Thank you,” he says when he pulls up in front of my apartment an hour after we watched the sun rise. “Yesterday was the best Sunday I’ve had in a long time.”
“Thank you for the multiple orgasms and the Chinese food.” I laugh and lean over, pecking his lips. “Have fun at practice.”
“Have fun I don’t even know what you’re going to do,” he says, and I grab the door handle of the truck.
“I have a couple of things to do today.” I don’t mention that I have an article due or that I also have to publish my blog post. “Be safe,” I tell him and get out of the car, the doorman holding open the glass door for me to walk into. I look over my shoulder and wave at him as I walk inside, avoiding the eyes that look at me. They usually see the walk of shame at around four in the morning, never at nine.
I walk into my apartment and see the bag that I brought back from Karrie’s when I dumped it off yesterday and raced to Mark’s. I slip off my shoes, and I’m about to walk to the kitchen to make myself another coffee when I hear a knock on the door. I smile to myself and walk to the door. “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” I say when I open the door. My smile disappears when I see that it’s Matthew standing there looking at me weird. “Hey.”
“Didn’t you wear that yesterday?” He points at me, and I look down at my outfit. Luckily, the sash in the front tied in a bow hides the fact that two buttons are missing.
“Um, yeah,” I say. “I just got dressed, and I was lazy, so I put the same thing on.”
“You aren’t wearing makeup either,” he points out, smiling as he walks in.
“Are you Sherlock Holmes now?” I say, closing the door.
“You had sex,” he says out loud like it’s a big aha moment.
I roll my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“You forgot this.” He holds up my backpack that has my laptop in it. “We called you all day yesterday, but you didn’t answer.”
“I was taking a break from the phone.” I reach for the bag, and he throws his head back and laughs. “It’s Sunday. It’s a holy day.”
“Holy day,” he repeats. “This from the woman who thought the church would burn down if she walked into it when we baptized the kids.”
“I was just being cautious,” I tell him, folding my arms over my chest.
“You kept looking back every time you heard a noise.” He laughs. “And you practically ran out of there at the end.”
“This is fun,” I say sarcastically. “This trip down memory lane,” I say, grabbing the bag. “Now, if you’re done, I need a coffee.”
“Always a pleasure,” he says, walking to me and kissing my cheek. I met him through Karrie, but he is the closest thing I have to a brother, and no matter how many times I get on his nerves, or make the vein in his head pulse, he has my back with no questions asked. “The kids loved spending time with you.”
“Obviously,” I say to him, smiling. “I’m pretty fucking awesome.” He nods his head at me, walking to the door.
“Call Karrie, would you? She almost called the NYPD to make a wellness check,” he says, walking out.
“You’re obviously not keeping her busy enough.” I wink at him while he glares. “She was mentioning that you haven’t been, you know.” He puts his hands on his hips, and I know he’s getting aggravated. I put my hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” I say. The elevator arrives, and he walks into it and presses the button.
“She did mention that she wants more ass play.” I try not to laugh. “You just have to push through the barrier.” I say the last words loudly as the elevator closes. I laugh at myself, walking to the kitchen and making me a coffee and then carrying it to my bedroom. I am getting undressed when my phone rings, and I run to my purse in the hallway.