Over the next few weeks, I take Jane and Catherine’s advice and try to turn off my brain. Dave and I started going out together as a couple. Nothing explicit is said. We don’t wear little badges, but our interactions make it obvious. Jane and I were planning to finish the design of her gown, and I started going out with them. While Dave had started his own business, Christie and her son occupied our old apartment while I went to Dave's apartment in the city.When we’re out, Dave always touches me, but not in a way that makes me feel like he’s trying to mark his territory or show off. He’s just super physical. If I’m near him, his hand is somewhere on my body. Usually his palm is glued to the top of my ass, but sometimes he brushes my hair back or dangles his fingers over my shoulder. He kisses my temples and cheeks. Not once do I feel like he’s holding me back.The most important thing is that we’re happy—way happier than I’ve felt in a long time. Which is fucking mind-boggling. If so
Another rising moan. Chelsea chanted his name. Soft. A whimper. She threw her head back again, her soft hair sliding over his arms, her face flushed with arousal. Dave loved her like that. That perfect moment before her body clamped down like a vise on his, drawing out his hot release. Her unknowing song, her heat. The look on her face. It all combined to give him a fierce, primitive satisfaction and added to the wicked pleasure swamping his own body. The first wave hit her hard, consuming her. He drove deep, his shaft stretching her tight channel. A ripple went through her, from her womb to her belly and up to her breasts. He actually felt it. Another loud moan and her entire body locked around him, a vise that clamped down so hard for a moment that he couldn’t separate pain from pleasure. She shuddered again as another wave built. He felt the contraction move through her, through him, swelling like the tide, a shock wave jolting outward from her feminine sheath, surrounding him, vib
At six o'clock, Catherine Brown was on her way to the hotel where her boss, slash secret husband, Mr. Richmond, checked in. He called her yesterday and informed her that tonight was the only time he would be available, and if she wanted her job back as his secretary, they needed to talk about something important first. Whatever it was, she didn't care any longer, and even though the devil said it would be purely business, yet here she was, driving under the rain in snarling traffic, and yes, she was drunk, but who cares? Catherine knew she didn't have to worry about anything other than business conversation. After all, Mr. Richmond never saw her as a woman, not that her yellow sweater and long skirt would make an impression, and besides, he liked his women naked, -fucking all the time. After ten minutes, when she reached the door, she strengthened and checked herself before knocking on the door of the presidential suite on the top floor. The woman at the reception said that she could
"Shit!" Catherine mumbled under her breath, 'Is it too late to back out now, right?' Shawn turned around and gestured for her to sit down on the couch. She didn’t look at him, or rather when he was still staring at her, yet of course she did feast on his still wet, water droplets' back when he turned around and firmly closed the door to his dressing room. 'Damn those buttcheeks' She sank into a chair, slipped off her nude one-inch sandals, and realized she was suddenly sweating, not because the air conditioner was warm in this room—in fact, it was too bloody cold just a few minutes ago, but because she felt like she was in a desert land, devoid of water and thirsty for something. However, even without him here in the living room, she could feel him. Somewhere c
Then, out of nowhere, Shawn straightened slowly to his full height and paced around in front of her like some male underwear model. Okay, not that kind, but a girl could dream, right? But the man must be thinking of something. She recognized this kind of pacing; this was his boss's thinking pace, where he would be making huge, fucking decisions. What on bloody earth could he be thinking? His offer wasn't mind-shattering, in fact, it was as boring as hell hounds. However, he looked so intimidating, his broad shoulders seeming to fill the bed, his soft, warm, silky bed, with that thought, Catherine smiled, that Mr. Richmond actually stepped backward. His eyes bore straight into hers, his gaze holding her prisoner, searching her very soul. "Stay in the mansion with me, and I will double your salary plus bonus," the god mumbled, as if debating whether to take her right now. "What? ...You did your thinking pace just to tell me that?" She grumbled. "Ah, what?" "Never mind, Mr. Richm
...And at that moment, he knew that until he made Catherine his, totally his, he would do everything to have her back again, however, he was exceptionally formidable, not only to his rivals, even in the early years when joy and grief still existed for him, he had never experienced such jealousy, possessiveness, or any other emotion remotely like it. He had not known what fury felt like until that moment. It was sobering to realise just how much power this small woman wielded. Catherine shook her head. "Let me go now!" She edged away from his intensity, from the way he made her heart pound in alarm, glancing frantically at the rear door. But Shawn was too close for her to make good her escape. So she looked to his deep ocean eyes, then focused and aimed her thoughts at them, a talent she had had since birth, though one she would never admit aloud as she shed a little tear from her own, it was slowly creeping on her eyes, it was like she wanted all her emotion being shown to her eyes
Two Years Ago "Welcome aboard!" The Asian flight attendant smiled. "Going home to Las Vegas, Miss?" As Catherine made her way through the aircraft to her seat in the third row, she mumbled under her breath, "Well,... Not voluntarily, but needed if I want my friends back in my life." She smiled back as she stowed her bag in the bulkhead and crammed her five-foot-seven-inch frame into the business, first-class seat near the window, acknowledging that yes, she enjoyed spending time with her friend, especially now that her wedding is approaching. Oh, such busy moments, flowers, invitations, meals, church, dress, etc. It was all very stressful. And yet, this was an unplanned flight. Her two best friends, Jane and Chelsy, bought tickets for her to follow them to Las Vegas to celebrate her bachelorette party. She might hate this idea, but does she have a choice? Of course, she didn't have a choice; after all, the two would have disowned her. It’s just that she didn’t want them to weigh in
"Hell no! Do I look OK?" Catherine murmured under her breath, ignoring the man while comparing him to her fiancee, who seemed ordinary in comparison to this adonis, Ryan Reynolds-sortof a man without the comedic attitude. Though, all was lost when she thought that she needed proper sleep because, for sure, her friends would never sleep a wink in Las Vegas. For once, she had a soft spot in her heart for this trip. She was trying to convince herself that this was a trip she needed before marrying Jason. But to her irritation, how could she start a wonderful rest when the guy