Lost King by Piper Lennox (best self help books to read .TXT) 📕

of hesitation, because I know damn well she wants this—I push a third finger inside.

I lean down and press my lips against her ear. “Why are you pretending, Ruby? You say you want to take things slow, but here you are. Ten seconds from coming on my hand in the back of a rideshare.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip like she’s biting back a protest, but we both know I’m right.

“What about the driver?” she hisses, after a beat.

“What about him? He can’t see us.”

“There’s no way he doesn’t know what we’re doing. Nobody sits in the back row for polite conversation and good behavior.”

I chuckle, but less so at her joke, and more at the way she whimpers when I start fingering her harder.

“It’s too dark for him to see us,” I assure her, “and the music’s loud enough to drown us out. Just don’t scream.”

“I,” she says resolutely, albeit breathlessly, “am not a screamer.”

“I wouldn’t know that, would I? The only time I’ve seen you finish was underwater.”

In the darkness, I see her blush. “True.”

The pad of my thumb finds her clit, swollen and begging me for attention. If the backseat were big enough, I’d slide down and switch my mouth from Quip Duty to a much more interesting beat.

Still, the motion of my thumb seems like more than enough for Ruby: she pushes both hands into her hair and whimpers again. This time, it’s my name.

“Are you begging me for more, or begging me to stop?”

“No idea,” she says, before her back lifts off the seat a second time, and her pussy starts pulsing on my fingers.

I don’t stop. I keep fingering her all the way to my driveway, making sure she comes down from the high of one orgasm, right into the build-up of the next.

“Let me help.” I button her jeans and straighten her clothes when her hands are too shaky to do it on her own. The driver wishes us goodnight with a neutral tone that doesn’t match his all-knowing look. I remind myself to give him a great rating and tip, as soon as I have the brain cells available to operate my phone.

On the porch, I grab the door handle and push, automatically slamming my shoulder against it. It doesn’t budge.

“I made you lock it, remember?” Ruby giggles. She digs my keys from my pocket, definitely grazing me on purpose, and dangles them in front of my face.

“You and all your safety. Look where that got us: shivering and losing valuable horniness out on my porch.” I fumble with the keyring until I find my house key, then have to concentrate on sticking it in the lock. Not an easy feat, considering it’s a much more boring version of what I’d really like to be doing right now.

“I’m not losing any,” she smiles, messing with her necklace. She brings it to her mouth, the chain resting across the corners while she toys with the charm, running it back and forth across her lips.

It’s both so innocent and dirty, even the cold air can’t stop my cock from getting harder.

“Me neither, actually. I’m just impatient.” Finally, I get the door unlocked. I push it open and motion for her to go ahead.

She starts shedding her clothes right away, before I’ve even closed the door behind us. I stand behind her in the foyer and simply watch, too mesmerized by the flickering of the chandelier across her bare back, and the shadows spilling down her spine and the backs of her legs, to realize I’m still dressed and should be rushing to change that.

“Where to?” she asks, pointing questioningly to the stairs, then the living room.

“Neither.” My hands take on the work my brain can’t; I start tearing my way out of my clothes. “Go down that hallway there. First room on the right.”

Ruby raises her eyebrows. “The room you wouldn’t let me anywhere near, a few days ago?”

“The very same.”

“Thought it was private.”

“No, just way too nasty to let you see it.” When I’m down to my boxers, both of us shivering in the draft from the door, I nod for her to go ahead. “Now it’s clean, so I’m not horrified for you to go inside.”

“You hired me to clean,” she laughs. It echoes through the entire first floor. “I wouldn’t have judged.”

“Trust me, it’s better that I did it myself. You never would’ve come back.”

When we step into the home theater, her jaw drops.

“Holy shit. I had no idea this was here! I thought this was, like, a guest room or something.”

“My friends sure treat it like one,” I grumble. While I lower the house lights and flick on the runners and poster glows, she walks the perimeter and reads the titles. “Lots of couches, ambient lighting: it’s their preferred ‘not a bedroom’ spot to hook up.”

“Yours, too?”

“Never hooked up with a girl in here, so I couldn’t tell you.” I hit the starlight button on the panel. Overhead, the pinpoint fiber optics blink to life.

Ruby gasps and grins when she sees them. She’s got no idea how cute she is.

“Okay,” she announces, palms out, “I don’t care how nasty it was, I definitely would’ve helped you clean this room.”

“Beg to differ. It took me about an hour to throw out all the condoms and empty lube bottles, and another two to disinfect the sofas. But I appreciate the optimism.”

Ruby shivers again, so I tell her to look in the closet. She returns with a huge blanket wrapped around her like a royal robe.

“Smells like bleach,” she chuckles, wrapping her arms, and the blanket, around me from behind. Her head rests on my back as I queue up some music videos on the laptop. “You