Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
But my Sass is different. She’s here for me. I’m certain at this stage. I mean something more to her than the con I started out as. She’s fallen for me like I have her. There’s a strong chance of us making it through this storm if we can continue the path we’re on—sharing who we are on the inside and exposing our real selves to each other. It may not be a fast process, but I’m willing to give it the chance to grow at the pace we need. Slow and steady. In the meantime, the sand sure is nice and cool to be buried in . . . “Why do you torture me so?”
“We’re still talking about a blow job, right?” With her hand on the doorframe, she swings around the corner and disappears. But then her head pops back out. “I think we’ve crossed into Emmy-winning theatrics at this stage.”
I sit in the chair to wait for her to come back out. I’m happy to make myself useful by hanging around and zipping her dress up as needed. “Well, to be fair, if your mouth wasn’t so talented, we wouldn’t have this issue.”
She disappears into the closet again. “The only issue we have is we’re going to be late if you keep begging for a blow job like this.”
I grin. “So it’s working?”
My breath is stolen from my lungs when she walks out in a baby-blue dress showing off her shoulders. Her hair is pushed back, and the necklace I bought her is wrapped around her neck. I’m used to seeing her barefaced most days or the lightest touch of makeup that makes her blue eyes pop, as she calls it. When we go out, she wears more if the occasion calls for it. Tonight, she looks like a movie star.
My heart beats faster with every step she takes, coming for me as if she didn’t own my heart already. “You look . . . Wow. So gorgeous.”
She giggles, and her cheeks instantly pinken into a deeper shade that drifts down over her chest. The dress is modern in design, more architectural and bolder for her typically more casual style. It cuts in at her waist, showing off her incredible figure. The large yellow flower printed on the side of the fitted skirt reminds me of the sunshine she is in the world.
I stand to lean down and kiss her. It’s not a blow job, but kissing her gives that a run for its money. I guess I’m going to live after all.
She twirls and laughs again. “This old thing.” Pausing with her back to me, she glances up over her shoulder. “Do you mind zipping me up?”
“It’s why I’m here. Professional zipper upper at your service.” I slide the zipper up the length of her back, then kiss the top of her shoulder. Again. And again, sliding my hands around to the front to squeeze her tits. “We could stay, just say the train broke down.”
“If he’s really your best friend, he would know you never ride the train.”
“Fair point.” I move in front of her, sliding my fingertips across her shoulders and lower over her arms.
Touching my cheeks, she says, “You look so handsome, Hotshot. Even the black eye disappeared like it knew it needed to be gone by today.” She waffles her head back and forth. “Though I kind of miss it already.”
Chuckling, I say, “I’ll pick a fight in the streets just to get punched for you.”
“Let’s not. I like the rest of your face too much to take the risk of damage.”
My hands land back where I want them. She lets me knead her beauties before she finally rolls her eyes. “You good?”
“No.”
With a laugh, she walks out of the room with the back straps of the heels dangling from her fingers. I follow her into the living room and sit on the couch while she does what she needs to do. The mini-Eiffel Tower that suddenly appeared on the console has never been explained. Seems it won’t be unless I ask, so I finally do. “Why is there an Eiffel Tower by the TV?”
While packing a few things in the small bag she’s taking, she replies, “It’s like a vision board but in 3D form.”
“So you’ve never been to Paris?”
She stops and glances at me. “No. Have you?” I can’t say she’s even trying to dupe anyone these days since I’m certain she knows she’s not fooling me.
The question almost stumps me. I run a multimillion-dollar company. My family owns properties all over the world. Sure, we both know we’re not married, though it’s never been explicitly stated, but shouldn’t she know this basic information about me? I’m sure the internet would tell her. “Yes. A few times.”
There’s not much of a response, though I do hear a heavy sigh. That could also be that she’s not happy about something that has nothing to do with me. The ring is still on most days, but when I look over at her, she’s twisting it off her finger. Going around to the sink, she washes her hands. Her eyes only meet mine for a quick second before she dries them and returns to her bag. “Ready?” she asks with her back to me, but I can see her slipping the ring back on where it belongs.