The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2)
Page 32
“I love you so much,” I murmur before lifting on all fours, moving toward him on the prowl. He meets me on the edge of the bed and grips my face in his hands.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand you, and I love it.”
“Weirdo means I’ll never be boring, right?”
“Never that,” he murmurs as I drink him in. He’s the picture of innocence as he gazes down at me curiously while completely vulnerable, just the way I like him. My mouth waters as he hardens due to my needy stare. For the last week, I’ve put him through the wringer, making him service me at my every whim. I’ve gotten little complaint, until tonight.
“You’re insatiable and getting scarier. I don’t even know what to think,” he says, as I grip his delicious length in my hand.
“Don’t think, baby, just let me do this.”
I wrap my lips around him and hear a low groan from above before I take him to the back of my throat. Enthusiastically, I bob, digging my nails into his ass, pulling him closer to swallow the whole of him.
“Fuck, if you’ll suck me like this, I’ll strap a fucking dishwasher on my back.”
I giggle around his cock, and it jumps in my mouth.
“Shiiiitttt,” he manages to get out through his clenched jaw as I suck him like he’s my last supper.
“Damn, baby,” he says, his eyes glittering down on me as I work him with my mouth. “I’m,” bob, “making,” suck, “a list,” lick, “right now of all the power tools I can g-g-get on my back. The list is long,” he grits out. “Take your time down there.”
“I want you so bad right now,” I murmur to him through my mouthful. He looks down at me with so much love, so much adoration, I feel complete. Blissfully, I suck him, acting out my fantasy from years ago. I love that I married the man I fantasize about. I love that he humors all my childish whims, but most of all, I love the way he looks at me the same way he did the crazy year we fell in love. Thinks of me the same, treats me the same, touches me the same. He never lied to me again after the night we met and has yet to break a single promise. And my love for him has only grown.
There’s nothing between us now but our messy love, trust, and respect, along with the three little reminders that we made the right decision with each other.
We could have so easily given up. At one point, we had every reason to. We did everything backward and went through the hard years to get to the honeymoon.
We grew up together. And that’s a feat, in and of itself.
We could be living completely different lives if we hadn’t woken up, and that would have been the real tragedy. And what a honeymoon it’s been.
“Clarissa,” he grunts, running his fingers through my hair, his gentle caress spurring me on, “baby, I need to touch you.”
“Just a few more minutes,” I murmur gazing up at him while pumping him in my hand.
“No way,” he says, his eyes pooling with desire while I alternate my licks between his shaft and crown. “I’m not going to last long if you keep that up.”
“I’m so…mmmm,” I mumble around him before letting him go with a pop. “I haven’t been this horny since I got pregnant with Zoe.”
All activity ceases, especially mine, as I try and recall my last period, and Troy’s eyes widen.
“No,” I whisper yell, “no way. I’m on the pill and the foam, and I’ve been putting in the diaphragm.”
“You’re pregnant,” he murmurs, running a hand along my jaw, his eyes welling with emotion before he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Birth control doesn’t exist for us.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Negotiations closed. Please, no.”
“Yes.”
“But I just lost a little of the baby weight! I can’t do that again so soon!”
“Baby,” he says, letting the power tool off his back and pulling me to him.
“No, no!” I say, backing away from him as he comes toward me, his smile beaming.
“Yes. Yes!”
“Troy,” I push at his chest, furious with myself, furious with him. No matter what we do, what measures we take, we can’t seem to stop procreating. “Wait…” I look up and nod. “I just had my period.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I say defiantly. “So, you can wipe that damned smile off your face!”
He tugs at my ankles, drawing me to the end of the bed and climbs on top of me, pinning my wrists next to my face. All I see in his eyes is love and awe. “Merry Christmas to me. I fucking love you so much.”
“Troy,” I whine weakly as he kisses me from head to toe, the smile never leaving his eyes. “It’s too soon.”
“It’s not.”
“I’m like a Gremlin, one drop of your sperm, and I multiply, babies flying out everywhere.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.
“How, with another baby? I just had another baby three months ago!”
“And she’s a perfect little temperamental redhead, just like her mother.” He leans in, eyes sparkling, and kisses me deeply, his tongue making it impossible to protest, my body sighing in welcome as I open for him. It’s useless, I’m entirely defenseless against my husband’s charms and super penis.
Utterly soaked and ready, he watches my reaction as he presses into me.
I moan when he hits my spot, the length of his cock setting me off as he rolls his hips and hits me, there, again and again until I throw my head back convulsing, praising his name. It’s sheer bliss, ecstasy, and he delivers every single time.
Every. Single. Time.
“I love you,” I say, sinking into his rhythm as I wrap around him, and he sinks in deeper, in our perfect fit. He takes his time, setting me off repeatedly before he picks up the pace. Hearts pounding, I trace the planes of his chest, his arms, meeting his hips with the buck of mine, watching his eyes flare. His jaw goes slack before he pours himself into me. It’s when he’s resting on my chest that I murmur words that I know to be true.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say softly, stroking the damp hair on his forehead. “You once told me you thought you were the worst, but it’s simply not true. I’ll take any baby you give me, Troy Jenner, because of the man you are.”
I caress his biceps while he searches my face.
“I mean it. You are the best man I’ve ever known.”
Voice clogged with emotion, his eyes shine. “Only because you made me this way. You made damned sure I deserved you.”
“Thank you for not giving up.”
“Never, Mrs. Jenner.”
One hour later…
I lightly rake my nails down my husband’s chest as he sleeps next to me flipping another page on my kindle. The house is completely silent as snow falls outside our bedroom window. Troy has gifted us a house I could only dream of, and every single day, I’m thankful for the chance we took on each other. For his persistence in winning me, for the faith he kept for the both of us. No longer a struggling single mother but a wife, a professor, a realtor and part of a bigger picture I never saw for myself. Mostly due to the belief and unrelenting love of the man sleeping next to me. Feeling sentimental in remembrance of our first white Christmas, I close my book and stare down at Troy. Just as I’m reaching for the light to settle in and cuddle up with my better half, Troy jackknives in the bed, scaring the hell out of me. I jump back as his head turns my way, Exorcist-style, while ice-blue flames shoot from his eyes.
“You saw me assed out that day and didn’t say a word.”
GrandGirl#08 Reviewer Ranking 1,015
Metropolis-Fur Shag Rug-Shag Away!
Here I am on Christmas Eve, listening to my best friend and her god-shaped husband bang it out a few doors down, and I’m not bitter. Not at all. In fact, I’m happy for them, because no doubt I’m going to get another niece or nephew to spoil because birth control for them is pointless. But that’s not why I’m no longer bitter. You see, I’ve finally met someone, an
d while he’s not the sophisticated millionaire with a British accent and mile-long dong I always hoped for, he’s perfect for me. He’s a simple working man, an Uber driver, and the greatest guy a girl could ask for. He sees past the superficial; is kind, intelligent, considerate, well-spoken, and surprisingly an animal in the sack—or shall I say rug—which is why I’m writing this review. I have to say, this rug served its purpose, and despite the mild burn, I’ve ordered two more because one can never be sure when and where the mood will strike. I hate to say it, guys, but those looking for my reviews might be hard-pressed to find them in the future, because my schedule is looking pretty busy. It’s all thanks to a flat tire and the owner of the chariot that saved this damsel from another year of lonely rants. Merry Christmas, internet void. Here’s hoping you find your own Dave.
Konnichiwa!
THE END
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Dear Reader,
Dante is loosely based on my nephew, Austin, and it would make this little man’s Christmas if you would take a minute to subscribe to his YouTube channel.
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USA Today bestselling author and Texas native, Kate Stewart, lives in North Carolina with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance, as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense. Kate's title, Drive, was named one of the best romances of 2017 by The New York Daily News and Huffington Post. Drive was also a finalist in the Goodreads Choice awards for best contemporary romance of 2017. Her works have been featured in USA TODAY, BuzzFeed, and translated in five languages.
Kate is a lover of all things '80s and '90s, especially John Hughes films and rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.
Other titles available now by Kate
Room 212
Never Me
Loving the White Liar
The Fall
The Mind
The Heart
The Brave Line
Drive
The Real
Someone Else’s Ocean
Heartbreak Warfare
Method
Romantic Dramedy
Balls in Play Series
Anything but Minor
Major Love
Sweeping the Series
Balls in Play Box Set: Anything but Minor, Major Love, Sweeping the Series, The Golden Sombrero
The Underdogs Series
The Guy on the Right
The Guy on the Left
The Guy in the Middle (Coming Winter 2020)
Erotic Suspense
Sexual Awakenings
Excess
Predator and Prey
Lust & Lies Box Set
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I have many to thank, but first, a little story. Our family has this cookbook, which happens to be my most prized possession. I know we’re not supposed to love THINGS, but this isn’t just a thing, this is a history. Between the pages of this book is a holiday, or a birthday, in essence, it’s a combination of memories. Like most families, mine always centered around the kitchen, the hub of our get-togethers. And like many others, this cookbook is full of recipes handed down from one generation to the next.
We’ve always taken great care to keep our family recipes a secret, but with the go ahead of my stepmother, the Matriarch of the family, I was allowed to share some of ours with you.
Not all of these we can take credit for. I’m sure some of us picked these up from others along the way with varied ingredients in one way or another to suit our tastes, but this collection belongs to the Scotts, so thank you, Alta Scott, for being a rock, a best friend, and for the gift of your spatula and mother’s love. I will treasure this book as I treasure our relationship, always.
I need to thank my team, Autumn, Donna, Bex, Christy, and Grey. Without you, I would not have made it through this or any other book. But this one was especially hard, and I could not have done it without your dedication, friendship, and support. Grey, thank you so much for that night, and every day after. You’ll never know what that meant to me. Donna, I tell you every day, but DAMN, you are the most incredible friend, patience and endurance personified. Christy, you uplift me so often, just by being yourself. I adore you. Autumn, what a friendship we have. Big or small, you’re the problem solver, a guiding light, and so dear to me. Thank you for all you do. Bex-a-million, you’re worth a trillion. Thank you for laughing when it’s not funny, so I can laugh with you. Because of you, I look a lot more together and you’re the reason and glue. I’m so proud to know and love every single one of you.
Thank you to my beta team-Christy, Kathy, Rhonda, Maria, Maiween, Stacy, and Alta. Thank you for making the process bearable, for showing up, for being honest, and being friends. This job is impossible without you.
Thank you to my proofers-Joy, Marissa, and Bethany, for taking on such a tremendous task last minute and coming through. You are the bees knees—pun intended, Bethany. Wink emoji.
Thank you to my ASSKICKING group, for your endless friendship and support. I can’t do this job without you.
A huge thank you to my sisters, Kristan and Angela, who make up a huge part of my backbone and keep me grounded when this job makes me crazy.
Thank you to all my author homies who continue to be a huge support and for this book especially—Jewel E. Ann, Emma Scott, Kennedy Ryan, and MJ Fields who set down their coffee and took the time to just listen. Love y’all.
Thank you to my cover designer, Amy Queau, who continues to show up and kick ass, sometimes mine, while staying a dear friend.
Thank you, Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Formats, for being you, because you, my friend, are amazing.
Thank you to my husband, Nick, who continues to put socks on my feet and coffee in my hands when I’m barely aware of my own existence. In the words of the great Salt-N-Pepa “Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!”
Last, but not least, thank you, dear reader for continuing to support my dream by reading my love stories. I’ve got much more to come. And I’m so very thankful for every word/step you take on this journey with me.
XO,
Kate