Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
She says it so nonchalantly. Like she asked him if he wanted to paint her toenails.
An uncontrollable grin overtakes me. “Did you say it like that?”
“Casually? Yeah.”
“What did Jake do?”
“He picked me up. Put me on the bed. And slowly stripped me…it was the most sensual thing ever. He let me take off his clothes and explore him and blow him.” She does love giving head. “With Oliver, sex is like being on a roller coaster. It’s raunchy and…untamed. With Jake, it’s drawn out like an art form.” She pauses in thought. “I just really love watching them come.” I laugh, and she groans, “Shit, sorry. Your brother.”
I’m not that abashed, and weirdly, I’m a glutton for punishment and would rather be in the know with the juicy gossip. Even if I regret it later. “I like that you enjoy rocking Jake’s world…” I shut one eye. “And my brother’s.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m hurting either of them. It’s just…it’s not serious.”
“Just sex,” I echo what she’s said.
Clearly there are feelings, but Hailey isn’t in a place to confront them. Sex isn’t as messy as love in her head. And she already has enough to untangle. With her full plate, adding a love triangle into the mix would send me over the edge, too.
Our talk lightens when Hailey asks me about work, since she’s dipped out so much. I mention Katherine’s obsession with pink hydrangeas and a new chef that’s being onboarded in late spring.
“Thanks for the condoms, by the way,” Hailey says. “The ones you gave me on Valentine’s Day.” She did ask if I had any to spare, and I had a whole unused box since they were pre-Rocky, and I had no clue he had a super-specific condom preference.
“Wait, so you weren’t sleeping with Liam the Dog Walker, then?” I assumed that’s who they were for.
“I let you believe I was having sex with him when you brought him up. I’m sorry.” She’s crying. “I’m the—”
“Most amazing person in this whole fucking world, and I will accept nothing less,” I say into the speaker of my phone.
“Y-you’re the best.” Her staggered breath sounds like a hiccup. “My emotions are just all over the place.”
“You’re exhausted, Hails. You need sleep.”
“I know, I know.”
“Go get some now.”
“I will. Love you, Phoebe.”
I express the same love back, then hang up. After setting my phone on the tiled ledge that surrounds the tub, I relax back. I drift off a little as minutes pass, feeling my limbs ooze and the water become lukewarm. I drain the tub halfway, then spin the handle for more hot water.
Once it’s steamy, I slowly sink underneath the bubbly water, letting my hair soak, before coming up for air. The door opens as I wipe suds out of my eyes.
My pulse skyrockets.
Rocky is already shedding his jacket, his shirt, and he pulls off his belt with a single hand. “I’m here for the Transformers watch party,” he tells me.
“So sad,” I say with a wry smile. “You’re ten minutes too late. We just finished the last one. You would have loved Michael Bay’s take on Bumble—”
Rocky sheds his pants with his boxer briefs, and his long, thick cock steals my words. He flashes a self-satisfied smile that abruptly closes my slack jaw, and then he confidently strides to the bathtub, stepping into the warm water. I catch the slight wince when he bends his bad knee to get in.
“Who said you were invited?” I ask, as he scoops me by the hips and draws me onto his lap. His length presses against my belly.
He gives me a pointed look. “This is my bathtub,” he reminds me. “Who says you were invited?”
“This was a sanctioned bubble bath.” My confidence matches his.
“I don’t think it was.” He spreads my legs around him and runs his hands up my slippery, bare back. “I’m going to have to arrest you.”
My pulse thumps heavier and lower. We’re eye level with each other, our lips teasingly close. “You can’t arrest me. I’ve done nothing wrong. No crimes to my name.”
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass. “Phoebe Graves,” he whispers against my ear. His hand trails between my legs. “You are guilty of a crime.” His touch against my swollen clit makes me squirm, and he clutches me tighter to him. “Your crime is loving me.” His arms are strength and power. “It.” He has a fistful of my wet hair. “Is.” He draws my head back in a fierce tug. “Criminal.” He sinks his mouth against my neck. I shelter a cry as he trails hot, vicious kisses down my collarbone and to my breasts. He sucks my nipple as if it’s my punishment.
A soft moan escapes me with a shortened breath. He presses a clawing kiss to my lips. The force pulls me into his chest.