Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I stand there long enough to watch those taillights disappear, and then with his hat as a souvenir, I go to bed. Alone again.
CHAPTER 15
Tagger
Two hours is not enough sleep.
I scrub my hands over my face, knowing wrestling with my thoughts of Pris will keep me awake. So why fight it?
Opening my eyes, I stare at my bedroom ceiling as images of her populate my mind.
The curve of her jaw when her head tipped back against the steering wheel.
Her mouth hanging open, making me want to fuck it, kiss it, and do dirty fucking things to it.
And the feel of her soft tit that fit so perfectly in the palm of my hand.
My dick is hard just thinking about it. She drives me fucking wild.
Diving my hand under the blanket, I rub over the boxers I wore to bed and then take hold. I close my eyes, letting my head fill with images of her, the feel of her soft lips, my fingers sliding through the slick folds, and the taste of her skin. Two more minutes alone and I would have been licking my fingers.
Fuck the cotton barrier. I push them down and get a firm grip, pulling faster and sliding quicker. If I’d had five minutes more with her, I might have been fucking her. I bet that tight little pussy of hers feels like heaven.
It’s not as good as the real thing, but the images of her are getting me there. I jerk faster, the pull deep down tightening.
Images flash as my orgasm builds.
Hard nipples pushed against wet and see-through fabric.
Faster.
There was no hiding. She wanted me to see her. She wanted me.
Harder.
I could have slipped right between her legs and buried myself deep in my desires for her. “Fuck,” I groan, beginning to ache for release. I pump and thrust, imagining it’s her I’m fucking instead.
She came with my fingers poised at her entrance. My touch was so potent that she couldn’t hold on any longer. Fuck, that’s sexy. The feel of her trembling over my hand, her body pulsing because of how my touch is an aphrodisiac. And a mindfuck.
Jerking becomes erratic with my thoughts. I should have fucked her . . .
“Oh fuck.” My orgasm hits sideways, sending the back of my head to dig into the pillow in response. I come so hard that I lose myself in the darkness and the stars, the fireworks and her face. I moan as the last of my release escapes, and then my body lies in recovery. Arms limp at my sides, my legs are lifeless.
My breathing settles after I let the images go and return to reality. Opening my eyes again, I shift my arm across my forehead, resting it there, and stare at the ceiling. It’s not the first time I’ve masturbated in this room. It was a regular occurrence back in high school, but I’ve been out of practice since. No need when I could get a woman just by saying hello to her. But there’s something about Pris . . . Shit. I’m in so much trouble.
I don’t know when emotions started factoring into the equation, but it’s good to feel something again. She did that.
Fuck.
Sitting up, I know I can’t leave with how we left it. I flip off the covers and rush to the bathroom. Being as quiet as I can, I move across the hall and shut the door. There’s not much time, so the shower is cold because I can’t wait for it to heat up. I dry off and slip on my New York clothes, already missing the feel of the jeans and the soft cotton against my skin.
After rushing through getting dressed, I walk down the stairs, keeping my shoes from echoing against the hardwoods. I don’t quite reach the front door when someone says, “You don’t have to sneak around, Tagger.” My mom sits at the table with a glass of water in front of her.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I can’t sleep.” Her hand covers her chest over her heart. “I’m going to miss you and Beckett so much.”
“I miss you all the time. I know he will, too.” I check the time on my watch before realizing how this must look. Shit. I hate that my patience has slipped when I should be here for my mom. “You can come visit. Anytime. First class.”
“You know your dad is hard to get to travel. Then you put him in a big city, and he’s a fish out of water.”
“Then you come.” I kneel in front of her. Covering her hand resting on the table with mine, I say, “Whenever you want, you just let me know. Okay?”
“You’re a good son, Tagger. Don’t let the world change who you are on the inside.” It’s a hope because she knows I’ve already changed, but being back this week was a good reminder. “Now you better get going, or you’ll miss the opportunity.”