Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Dash created our epic family gathering and parties, not for bragging rights or to constantly outdo himself, he genuinely wanted to create lasting memories while building a solid loving base for our family. He was good at it even if I did have to bring my lunch everyday… I was dumb. Such a cheap way to save a little bit of money.
“You’ll crack that code, I’m sure,” I said, dragging my feet while Dash practically pulled me along. His ass was still a thing of beauty. The extra weight he’d gained—nothing crazy, a few extra pounds here and there—only made the way he filled out his clothes better. His ass was a double gripper, the perfect bubble butt.
At the elevator doors, he pressed the button, and said, “Can we go up—” He turned to me, dislodging my stare, drawing me out of my daze.
“What’d you say?”
“Were you just checking out my backside?” Dash teased, flipping around for me to look again. And I did. Watching him might be my favorite pastime.
“That baby blazer you wore lets me see both the front and back. A bold strategy since I’m a sure thing.” I shrugged because it was the truth.
“You’re making this trip to the room harder than it has to be, Casanova,” Dash said, walking into me, tilting his face up for a smooch. “I wanted to spend time with you in the room, talking, just being together while alone and uninterrupted.” He caressed my cheek, his thumb skimming my lower lip until the ding of the elevator startled him, sending his thumb directly into my eye.
I shoved him into the open car, not hard but enough, rubbing my inverted eyelashes from underneath the lid. Whatever about quiet time. My guy drank too much and was feeling the high. We only had so long before he crashed, passing smooth out.
4: The Celebration
Dash/Beau
Dash
“Hmm. Yeah, it’s an intriguing development. File a motion for continuance on Monday. Handle it on your own. I’ll be back Tuesday morning. Let’s meet with the client then. Have Stone rearrange my schedule accordingly. It’ll substantially increase the bottom line. Do a preliminary cost analysis. Have it to me Monday evening,” I said to the newest member of my team, Mason Taylor, a highly driven third-year attorney who actively sought me out for employment. My cell phone was stuck to my ear, a full bottle of wine in my other hand. I hustled naked from the living room back to the bedroom where Beau was waiting.
“Should…wait. Changing directions. Is the client required to attend court with me on Monday? Will his presence be an advantage to his case?” Mason asked.
“No,” I said with a shiver. “I have to go. Send me the cost analysis. I need to be prepared for Tuesday.” In a fluid move that I’d mastered years ago, I swiped my thumb absently across the screen to end the call as I expertly dove under the edge of the blanket Beau held up for me. Not a drop of wine was spilled. Clearly not the first time I’d made such a maneuver.
Twenty-four hours into our anniversary weekend and we’d eaten two delicious buffets, spent time together sipping fruity cocktails while baking under the sun, had a sixty-minute couples massage then back to the room for ass busting sex, twice. I loved that the direction of Beau’s plans brought us back to the hotel room every few hours.
Now, we were finally alone in the suite with the temperature of the AC turned down as low as it could go, requiring Beau and I to cuddle together under every blanket we found in the suite. During the dive, I tossed my cell phone in the middle of the mattress, pressing my icy body against Beau’s warm one.
“It’s seriously cold out there. Maybe you should go turn the AC up a few degrees, so we don’t freeze to death,” I suggested cheekily, taking a decent-sized pull from the wine bottle.
“If I go, I’m takin’ the blankets with me,” he said with all certainty. His hand reached for the bottle before it properly left my lips, splashing a drop or two on my chest. “I can’t handle the cold like I used to. You might have to scoot over to your side. Your body’s makin’ me shiver.” My guy actually tried to shove me away from him.
Yeah right. When that didn’t work, he scooted the other direction. Beau was smarter than that decision. I smirked as I followed him, landing in the space he’d made warm with that big body. Perfect.
“How did we endure Chicago?” Beau seldom spoke about the dark period we barely survived.
Of course I didn’t respond, knowing that our difficult years were entirely my fault. “Stop moving and take a drink. If we don’t get you drunk, how can I take advantage of you? If you’re aware of what’s happening, that’s called having consensual sex. We do that regularly.”