Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“It doesn’t.” I soaped up another cloth and moved on to her breasts, mottled red from stubble and groping, stained with wine. “I feel the same way about you. Like I’m never going to get enough.”
Once her breasts and belly were clean, I rearranged the blankets to cover her top half so she wouldn’t get chilled. I gave her thighs a nudge. “Let’s check out the damage.”
Her vulva was puffy, her opening swollen. Her clit and labia were an angry, abraded red. I gave a low whistle. “I should have stopped you before you hurt yourself.”
“I liked hurting myself,” she corrected me. “You have to trust me to stop when I want to stop.”
“You’re right. You did stop when you wanted to.” I gently dabbed her still-leaking cunt with the cloth and she flinched.
When I moved on to her backside, she grimaced and covered her eyes. “This might be too personal.”
“Stop,” I said, commanding but gentle. When I pulled the cloth away, there was a small streak of vivid red. “We’re going to give anal a break for a while.”
“Is it that bad?” she asked, concerned.
I shook my head. “You’re bleeding a little. You’re a beginner. I’m not surprised you’d have a small tear or two after multiple rounds. You took a lot of dick up there tonight.”
She snorted a giggle. “Wow, you make it sound so sexy when you put it like that.”
“Some parts of aftercare aren’t sexy, sorry.” I got a fresh cloth to work on her thighs and calves, and when I was finished, I was too tired to deal with the mess. The cleaners could tend to it in the morning. I tucked Charlotte back in properly and got her water and ibuprofen from the bathroom.
“Take these, drink all of this,” I instructed.
She pushed herself up enough to sip the water and take the pills, then waved me off. “I’m not drinking all of it. I’ll worry about hydration in the morning.”
“In the morning, we’ll be on a plane,” I reminded her.
My heart leaped into my throat. In the morning, we’d be on a plane, in the evening, we’d be back in New York. And I would have seven days to prove I was worthy of keeping her.
If I lost her now, I would never recover.
CHAPTER TWELVE
(Charlotte)
“Not to sound like a gold digger, but I want you to know that I have zero problems with a private jet next time.” I laughed, but I wasn’t joking. My feet were achy and swollen after our flight and the walk to JFK’s baggage terminal felt like a marathon. “Maybe something where they pick us up in a limo right on the tarmac?”
“I’d rather not, princess.” He guided me past the rows of luggage carousels, to the exit doors. “My entire fortune comes from the hospitality industry. I make money when people get on planes and fly far, far away. You’re walking next to the actual cause of global warming.”
“Our bags,” I said, motioning behind us as he pushed the door open for me.
“They’ll deliver them,” he said.
The air outside assaulted me after hours of recirculated oxygen. The exhaust and hot asphalt smell of the pickup area was a gut punch. “So, you feel guilty and try to offset your impossible debt to the planet by mildly inconveniencing yourself?”
“Would it be better if I did nothing?” He took the handle of my suitcase and slipped his arm around my waist. “At least I’m not making you take the subway.”
No, he was making me take a spaceship, apparently. The car waiting for us was sleek and sci-fi. Its gold chrome gleamed like a laser gun.
Oh no. I was getting sexually transmitted nerd vibes from Matt.
“This is your car?” I asked, as if he would have put my bag in someone else’s open trunk. A driver opened the back door for me, and I slid inside, but then the guy tossed Matt the keys.
I waited in the back, puzzled, while Matt closed the trunk and jogged up to the driver’s door. When he got in, I said, “That guy didn’t look like one of the other valets.”
“Private service,” Matt explained. Which still didn’t explain why he was in the front while I was in the back. “Buckle up. And take off your panties.”
I laughed, glancing up at the car’s glass roof. Though the outside was tinted, the interior view was crystal clear; how much could someone see outside?
“Nobody is going to see you,” he said, reading my thoughts. “Now, take off your panties, princess, and put on your seat belt like a good girl.”
“What if I get these nice leather seats all messy?” I gave him a smirk in the rearview mirror and wriggled my panties down my thighs and pulled up my skirt before fastening my belt.
“You’ll just have to lick them clean.” He adjusted his mirrors and pulled away from the curb, briefly tapping the horn as another car tried to overtake him.