Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
“I fucking hate you.” She was twitching like a deranged lunatic.
He positioned himself over her, his breathing ragged, his eyes fever-bright and full of that infuriating male satisfaction. “Now, kiss me and taste yourself.”
She didn’t hesitate. Taking his mouth in a hard kiss, she reached for his engorged cock, desperate to get him inside of her. They fumbled, as he kicked off his shoes.
“No, I want you on top. Ride me.”
She crawled onto his lap, aligning their bodies, then her phone chimed. “Shit. Someone’s here.”
“What?”
She stretched for her phone. “That’s my camera.”
“Ignore it.”
“Let me just see who it is.”
He sat back, pulsing erection straining between them.
“It’s probably just a deliver—fuck!” She sprang off the couch and tied her robe.
“What’s wrong? Who is it?”
“It’s Wren. She has a key. Hide!”
He stood. “Why would I hide? She knows about us.”
Oh, right. “Well, help me hide the shower stuff! And put away your dick!”
“I was trying to. Can’t you tell her to come back later?”
“Have you met Wren?” She threw an afghan over the wrapping paper supplies and tried to make a pillow fort around the jars for the centerpieces. “There’s too much!”
The doorbell rang, and Wren let herself in. “Joce?”
“I’m naked!”
“Huh?”
Soren shot her a WTF look.
She pointed at his dick, which was still outside of his pants and hissed, “Put that away.”
“Jocelyn?” Wren called.
“I’m naked,” she said quickly. “Don’t look in the living room!”
“Why are you naked?”
“I’m not alone.”
“Oh,” she said quickly, then, “Ohhh…”
“Just…don’t look. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, I’m walking by now.” Wren slowly waddled past the doorway, her hands framed around her eyes like horse blinders. “I’m in the kitchen.”
Jocelyn let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.”
“Is Soren with you?”
“Hi Wren,” he called, voice devoid of any kind of welcome.
Jocelyn smacked him in the chest and hissed, “Be nice.”
“Hi Soren.”
“You be nice. Do you have any idea how blue my balls are going to be?”
“I’ll get you a bag of frozen peas. This was your fault anyway.”
“My fault?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “And for the last time, do something about that,” she snapped, pointing at his dick.
“I was trying to,” he said through gritted teeth.
She ignored him and went to the kitchen. “Sorry about that.” She cinched the tie at her waist.
“That’s ok—oh. Wow. You look…like you belong on one of your romance covers.”
Jocelyn uncapped a bottle of water and guzzled half of it. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“Sorry. From now on I’ll call first.”
“Meh, don’t worry about it. Apparently, my phone etiquette sucks too.”
Wren glanced into the empty hall and whispered, “So, I guess you guys are good.”
Jocelyn took her time swallowing more water. “We’re fine.”
Wren’s brows lifted. “If this is fine, what does good look like?”
“Hi Wren.” Soren’s deep voice cut through the kitchen as he entered, strategically keeping his lower body behind the island and out of Wren’s view.
Jocelyn pressed her lips tight to hide a laugh when she spotted the pink flush on his cheeks.
“Hi, Soren.” Wren couldn’t meet his eyes.
He pulled out a stool and sat down at the counter.
Jocelyn’s jaw nearly hit the floor when Cordelia hopped right into his lap. Unfortunately, due to his lingering boner, Soren only winced, unable to appreciate the progress being made.
“I can’t believe she just jumped onto your lap like that.”
He shrugged. “We had a long talk this weekend and came to an understanding.”
“Maybe I should go,” Wren said. “You guys were obviously in the middle of something.”
“You don’t have to go,” Soren objected. “I can leave.”
“No one has to leave!” Jocelyn blurted. “Everybody sit! And stop making this super fucking weird.”
Wren dropped into a chair.
Soren placed a calming hand on Jocelyn’s. “You okay?”
Wren tsked. “Aww.”
Jocelyn flung his touch away. “I’m fine.” When both of them frowned, she apologized. “Sorry. I don’t know how to act.” She looked specifically at Soren. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to you touching me in front of people.”
Wren smiled. “I think it’s cute.”
Needing a distraction, she glanced at the pink box Wren brought with her. “What is that?”
“Whoopie pies, from Esther’s.” She pulled the string and lifted the lid.
A whole box meant she intended to stay for a while.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching your sugar intake?” Soren asked.
All the softness left Wren’s face as she glared at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be minding your business?”
“Dear God, man, don’t anger it.”
Soren held up his hands. “My bad. Forget I said anything.”
Wren reached into the box, pulled out a thick whoopie pie, and bit into the chocolate sandwich. “That’s right, it’s your bad.” The cream filling filled her mouth as she grumbled, “Like I need another Hawthorne helicoptering over me. I’m eating for two!”
“Okay,” Soren said slowly, setting Cordelia on the ground where she immediately barked. “I’m going to wait in the den while you two talk.”
“Wait.” Wren’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just…tired and pregnant, and I wanted to eat a whoopie pie in peace.”