Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Coke dropped his head and then stared down at the floor.
“I know you’re right, but my chest fucking hurts thinking about this,” he hissed.
“Honey, your daughter is a big girl. Do you really think she’s going to stay your baby forever?” I whispered, putting my arm on his shoulder.
He looked up, devastation clearly written in his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “I did.”
I smiled at him sadly. “Luca will be back.”
“Luca is a goddamn moron.” Coke shook his head, his hands going to his hair.
His beautiful graying hair that I wanted to run my fingers through and pull his face down to mine. Kiss him until we both couldn’t breathe.
But, this needed to be dealt with. Coke and I had been circling around this conversation for a very long time.
He’d been denying it long enough.
“I don’t fucking like Luca,” he finally snapped.
I shook my head. “Nobody likes the man that takes their daughter’s virginity, honey.”
“Well, I don’t think this is going to end well, and I honestly can’t say that I even like the guy all that much.”
I wouldn’t bring up the fact that Luca was my brother, and he would rather saw off his own leg than hurt Frankie.
But, Coke wasn’t in a great state of mind…especially with the way the two had left each other the night before.
“I’d almost rather that loser Calen that she met at school than Luca,” Coke muttered, finally looking at me. “At least then she’d have someone here, and not someone who’s off risking life and limb.”
I walked into Coke’s arms and then rested my head on his chest.
His heart was thundering.
“Coke…” I breathed, pressing my lips to his chest. “Come to bed.”
He growled and bent, hooking both arms underneath my ass, picking me up as if I weighed nothing.
“Coke!” I giggled. “Put me down!”
He did. On the bed.
I hit with a bounce and started to roll off, but he caught me before I could get too far.
“Nuh-uh,” he growled. “I have anger to work out.”
“So, we get to have angry sex?” I asked hopefully.
“This isn’t like our makeup sex. This is like our ‘I’m home from a bad day at work’ sex, only worse. I need you. I need to forget that I have obligations. And the only way to do that is when I’m inside you.”
I grinned and widened my thighs. I was never one to deny my husband a thing. Never had, and never would.
I wasn’t a stupid woman.
Coke was still just as beautiful as the day I’d met him. And the sex that had been so explosive in the beginning? Still amazing and just as explosive as the day we’d crossed that line.
Our days of having sex anywhere and everywhere were gone now that we had children afoot, but we did have a sex swing in our bedroom.
Which, I realized, was where this was headed.
When Coke wanted to take me rough, we normally tried to keep it off the bed.
There was only so much soundproofing and prevention that a couple could do. Eventually their children would find out that they were sexual creatures.
But, we kept it as quiet as possible, and we ignored everything else.
“Swing?” I pleaded.
He winked. “Swing.”
Coke got up off of me and shucked his pants as he walked into the closet.
He came back out fully naked, and my eyes automatically went to his cock.
Coke reached up above our bureau and pulled the leather swing down off of the top, and then walked to the middle of the room where one large, but discreet metal anchor hung beside our ceiling fan.
With deft, sure movements, he fastened the D-ring onto the hook and let the swing drop. The two pieces of metal at the top of the chain rattled together, causing my nipples to pebble.
That sound, paired with the way Coke’s lean, muscular body rippled with anticipation, had me shivering in preparation.
Oh, and need. Lots and lots of need.
I shifted on the bed, anticipation coursing through my veins, and caught Coke’s eyes.
His gaze was hot and intense, and I licked my lips.
“I feel like you’re about to eat me alive when you look at me like that,” I whispered.
He crossed the rest of the distance to me, and then wrapped his large hand around my ankle, giving me a tug to the end of the bed.
Once my legs were hanging off, he reached forward and hooked both sets of fingers around the waistband of my stretchy pants, and yanked them off, panties and all.
I didn’t bother closing my legs.
I’d long ago lost that need for privacy.
I didn’t know if it was due to my husband and his intense desire for me making my confidence so high or what, but I didn’t need to hide.
He knew about my stretch marks. He knew about my pale thighs. He liked my round hips and squishy ass, and he especially enjoyed watching them jiggle when he took me.