Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

her, just Ford. While every woman should have two men at least once in her life, Ford was all she needed now.

“On top,” she said. “I need you on me.” Another thing she’d missed, the weight of a man pinning her to the mattress.

Putting his lips to her mouth, he kissed deep but swift, then trailed a hand from her cheek, down her throat, between her breasts. He dropped a kiss on her nipple, then licked his way down her belly, ending with another kiss on the rise of her pubic bone. He lifted his head, spearing her with a look. “Whatever you want, baby, you shall have.”

It felt like a vow. She wondered if it would last past Monday. Then she didn’t care as he rolled a condom down over his magnificent cock, spread her legs, and climbed between them. Leaning forward, he braced himself with one hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck me, Ford, please.”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ve been asking all night.”

“Not like that.”

“Get on with it, man,” Simon growled from the doorway.

And Ford plunged home. She arched her neck, savored the fullness, then his weight as he laid on her, rubbing her breasts with the light mat of hair on his chest.

The bed dipped as Simon climbed on, stretching out on his side close enough for her to sense his body heat. “Does he feel as good as I did, princess?”

“Better,” she said, holding Ford’s gaze.

“Better how?” Simon asked with a feigned tone of affront.

She cupped Ford’s face as he pumped inside her, stroking her G-spot. “I don’t know why it’s better.” She didn’t care, nor did she believe it offended Simon in the least.

Ford’s cock swelled, caressing the spot more thoroughly until she put her head back, closed her eyes, and gasped her pleasure. He eased off, rising so she could see straight down her abdomen to his beautiful cock taking her. Holding her hip altered the angle of his penetration higher, and she moaned. Oh, God. There’d never been anything like this.

Then Simon put his finger to her clitoris.

She arched, soared out of herself, watched the amazing tableau as if she were floating, Ford’s cock pounding her, her breasts bouncing, Simon’s big hand massaging in slow circles. Her climax sparked deep inside, sizzling through every vein, every vessel and capillary, tingling in every muscle. Ford shouted, his cock throbbed, beating against that glorious mythical G-spot she’d been sure didn’t exist, and Sophia splintered into a million pieces.

What did they call it? La petite mort, the little death. Well, if this was what dying and going to heaven meant, she just might be okay with whatever tomorrow’s outcome turned out to be.

Seven

Waking with Sophia in his arms felt natural, right. Making love to her in the early hours bore more a tender side versus the wild abandon of last night, between just the two of them, Simon having left long before midnight.

Yet in the morning, on the way to the surgery center, Sophia huddled close to the passenger door, staring out the window at the warehouses and buildings flashing by along the freeway. It was early, the commute far from full swing. The traffic was light, yet infinitely interesting to her. From the moment they’d risen, she’d been quiet, remote, withdrawn.

Ford picked up her hand, brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Don’t worry.

Everything’s going to be fine today.” Mere words, but they were all he had to offer right now.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” she said too quickly. “I’m just mortified wondering what the people in the next room must have thought because I screamed so loudly last night.”

Little liar. But he wouldn’t push her. She needed to get through this in any way that was best for her. “I’m sure they were jealous as hell.”

She laughed. The sound was one note off. “I’m surprised they didn’t call the hotel management.”

“That would have been a crime in itself.” He held her hand firmly when she would have pulled away. “Simon said to tell you thank you for the most memorable experience of his life.”

She blushed.

The words were his, not Simon’s. They’d exhausted her by the time Simon dressed, and she’d barely mumbled thank you and good-bye when he’d kissed her on the temple

before leaving.

“Was it what you expected?”

A gentle smile creased her lips. “It was more.” She squeezed his fingers. “Thank you, Ford. I won’t ever forget what you did for me.”

The sentiment felt uncomfortable, as if last night was a one and only. It didn’t have to be.

He wanted to argue the matter, but again, he’d leave it for later. After Thursday when her results came back.

The exit for the center loomed all too soon. Her fingers seemed to chill in his grasp.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you wake up.”

It was the only promise he thought she’d let him make right now.

She woke in a coffin, the sides draped with blue cloth. Oh, God, just as her dreams predicted, she’d died right there on the table, doctors all around, needles stuck in her arms, feet imprisoned in the stirrups, and her legs spread. What a way to go. The perfect epitaph: She died with her legs wide-open.

Sophia tried to scream, but her throat was paralyzed.

Something warm, human, and comforting touched her forehead, and she opened her eyes.

“Here you go, hon. Have a drink.”

A nurse in a turquoise smock held a juice box with a straw.

She wasn’t dead. She was in the recovery room surrounded by blue curtains separating her from the rest of the patients. Sophia pulled the straw between her lips and sucked.

God, yes, she’d been thirsty, nothing to drink since last night. She should have had a glass of water after drinking the wine, but she hadn’t even thought about it until after ten and too late because of the surgery in the morning.

The pretty young nurse patted her shoulder. “You just lie there for a little bit, okay? Then you can get dressed and your husband’s waiting outside.” She flitted off to another