Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Her hands slid down my chest, then stomach, fingers tracing along the indents of my muscles on her path down to my button and zipper.
She wasted no time reaching inside my jeans to grab my cock, stroking me hard and fast.
“Rook, please,” she whimpered, hips wiggling impatiently, likely already imagining my cock inside her instead of in her hand.
“Please what?” I asked, reaching down to tug her panties down, hearing a little rip in the process. She made a little moan as my finger tapped against her clit. “Please fuck this sweet little pussy?” I asked, slipping a fingertip into her.
“Yes. Please. Now.”
Well, I couldn’t refuse her, could I?
Reaching down, I grabbed her knees, pulling her up as I moved in closer, then surged deep inside her.
“Fuck,” I groaned, pressing my forehead to hers as her walls closed around my cock.
Tess’s hands went to my ass, digging in, and her hips started to rock against me, needing friction.
I took one steadying breath, then I gave her what she needed.
Hard and fast, like she was begging for.
After one orgasm shook her system, I pulled her down off the counter, turned her, then bent her over the kitchen table and slammed deep inside her.
Tessa’s deep moan spurred me on as I thrust so hard that the table danced across the room until it slammed into the wall just as another orgasm slammed through Tessa.
That time, she took me with her.
We stayed there afterward, panting for breath, bodies overwhelmed with pleasure.
“You know what would be perfect right now?” Tessa asked a few minutes later, coming out of the bathroom all red in the cheeks still.
“What’s that?”
“A nice, long drive to a really good pizza place.”
God, I somehow accidentally married the perfect fucking woman.
Tessa - 28 years
“Hey, Ma,” Hawk’s voice filled the store as his face filled my phone screen.
He had sunburn on the sensitive skin under his eyes and what looked like a bruise on his jaw.
My adventurous, outdoorsy kid. All grown up. But just as prone to accidents as he’d been as a boy.
He looked so much like his father, even if he’d inherited my eyes. Even that strawberry hair that had been his as a boy had darkened to his father’s darker reddish-brown. He kept it a lot longer than Rook ever had. It gave him a roguish look that no doubt helped him attract all those girls who were constantly showing up next to him on his social media accounts. Not one of them seemed important enough to ever tell us about.
And, hey, so long as he was happy, we were happy with whatever relationship situation he had going on.
He was that, too.
Happy.
Even-tempered.
No signs of mania or depression.
And age-wise, he was past the point of most people’s onset of bipolar disorder.
It seemed like all those experts we’d worriedly consulted once were right.
“Hey, bud. What are you up to?” I asked.
To that, he gave me a big smile.
“I’m coming home.”
“What?” I gasped, heart swelling.
He did come home whenever his journeys brought him in the general vicinity. And, of course, on Christmas, as well as Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.
“Whoa,” Hawk said, wincing, making me realize I may have just squealed. A little.
“Sorry! When?”
“Well, tonight. If my flight takes off on time. Any idea what Uncle Detroit is making for dinner?”
“Well, now he’s making all your favorites,” I said, getting a laugh out of my kid. “What’s the occasion?”
To that, he took a slow, deep breath that had my spine tingling, worried he’d broken a leg in three places or something.
“I’m prospecting.”
“Wait… what?”
While most of his cousins had been talking since childhood about wanting to be part of the club someday, Hawk had never said anything of the like.
“Feels like the right time,” Hawk said, shrugging off my shock.
“But… since when?”
“Since I’ve been thinking about it.”
“When’s the last time you even rode a bike?”
“Been a bit. But I hear it’s… you know… like riding a bike.”
“That’s bicycles.”
“Eh, all the same. What, you don’t want me back in Shady Valley?”
“Of course I do. I just never heard you say you wanted to be a biker is all.”
Something off-camera caught his attention for a second before he looked back at me. “Ma, I gotta get going. We can talk about it when I get there, okay?”
“Okay. Let me know what time you’re coming in, so Dad and I can come get you.”
“Nah, I’ll meet you at the clubhouse,” he said, waving me off. “Love you, Ma.”
“Love you too,” I said just as the door to the store chimed.
Hawk ended the video call, and I looked up to watch his father walk toward me.
Rook had aged almost annoyingly well. Whitish-blond had started to streak through his red hair, and time had etched his features into those ruggedly handsome angles that men of a certain age all seemed to luck into.