by S. E. Law
Slowly, he edges into my rectum, that huge size making me moan.
“Oh god,” I cry out. “I can’t take it!”
“You can,” he whispers in my ear. “Because I love you so much, Summer.”
The words do it, and he continues chanting adorations as we make love in the grass. This is my man, and with a few deep pumps, it happens. Ridge spills and my body sucks up every single drop he has to give.
“I love you,” I murmur against his throat as the last remnants of his seed spurt inside me. His pecs are solid against my breasts, his abs made of pure steel. But this man has a soft heart, and kisses me tenderly.
“I love you too, Summer,” he whispers against my lips before claiming my mouth again. And with that, I’m lost. I belong to Ridge Maddox. I’ve been claimed by this amazing doctor with the feel-good hands, and we count ourselves lucky to have found one another.
The End
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Sneak Peek: About That Evening
It’s Friday night, which means it’s an optimal time to study. Everyone else is out, and I have peace and quiet at home. I can catch up on whatever I’ve missed, and review notes in complete solitude with a focused mind.
But tonight, everything’s off. The words turn into squiggles before my eyes, and I struggle to concentrate. What is wrong with me?
Unfortunately, I know the answer. Things were going well until a few nights ago when I was walking out of the shower. Like a dunce, I’d forgotten my panties. With a towel pressed to my breasts, I’d listened at the door to make sure the coast was clear. Good. There were no sounds.
Then I darted out, but to my surprise, Ross was standing right there, at the entrance to his room. He must have just opened the door because he was just as startled as me. We both did double-takes, and then I’d gone red and scuttled straight to my room, the towel clasped closely to my breasts. But not before I saw the huge tent in his boxers.
Oh my god. He’s enormous. Even in the few seconds we stood, staring at each other, I saw that he has a snake that’s so big that it wraps around his waist. He was erect, and I could almost see him enlarge as he looked at my nude body.
Well, I wasn’t really nude. I had the towel. But once I got into my room, I realized just how short the towel was. The upper portion covered my breasts just fine, but the bottom part probably lifted a bit while I was running, and I’d probably just showed Ross my pink pussy and big bottom.
Oh god. Holy cow. What an embarrassing, yet titillating encounter. Was he aroused because of me? Maybe he’d been watching some porn in his room and became aroused from that. But from the hungry look in those blue eyes, I knew it wasn’t true. Ross saw my heaving breasts and slick skin, and got hard because of me. I go hot all over at the memory, a damp spot forming on my panties.
Suddenly, a bang sounds as the front door crashes open. There’s a loud rustling, and then a thump. What the?
“Alexa!” comes Ross’s voice from the entryway. I’m standing mutely at the kitchen counter, waiting for my tea to brew. “Where are you? Oh wait, you’re still up.”
I don’t bother pointing out that it’s barely eleven and that I’m a grown woman, so I can stay up as late as I want.
He grins and flops down onto the couch before patting the space next to him. Is he drunk? My gorgeous roommate doesn’t appear to be trashed, and someone his height and weight would definitely have high tolerance.
Meanwhile, my roommate throws me a knowing grin.
“Come sit,” he says with a grin. My heart flutters, despite my annoyance with all the banging and crashing. “Come on, grab a beer. One beer won’t kill you,” he adds.
I hesitate, my teacup in hand.
“Come on,” Ross repeats. He gives me a heart-melting crooked smile, and I blush awkwardly.
“Okay,” I say with a warning smile. “One drink. That’s it.”
Ross smirks as he gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen. Returning with two frosty bottles of beer in his hands, he passes one over, and I fumble with the cap for a moment. Oof, I don’t drink often, and it shows.
My handsome roommate rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and takes the bottle back before deftly twisting the cap off in his large hands. The tattoos over his knuckles catch my eye, and I shiver as I imagine his hands on my lush curves.
God, I’m pathetic – drooling over my roommate like a schoolgirl with a crush! He grins like he can read my mind.
“Cheers,” he says before clinking his bottle against mine.
“Cheers,” I repeat softly. “Can I ask what we’re drinking to?”
Ross smirks. “To finding a gorgeous new roommate,” he says. “What else?”
I choke a bit, but manage not to look visibly aroused. Does he think I’m gorgeous? It must be, right? There are no other women in the vicinity. But then I make myself get real. Alexa, you’re about twenty pounds overweight with too much pudge in all the wrong places, the voice in my head says. Meanwhile, this man is built like a professional athlete. Guys like him don’t mess around with curvy, bookish girls like you.
I swallow hard, feeling a little bit sad, but Ross doesn’t know.
“So, what are you studying?” he asks innocently.
I look at him and manage a small smile.
“Library science. Why?”
He shrugs. “Just curious. Can’t a roommate make small talk? We haven’t gotten to know each other yet, despite me living here for almost two weeks now.”
I laugh quietly.
“Yeah, our schedules don’t really match. I’m up pretty early, and you’re up pretty late. We’re night and day, you and me.”
He takes another swig of his beer while looking into the distance thoughtfully.
“Well, I won’t apologize for the party, but I should’ve told you about it first. That I acknowledge. And I’m sorry about the volume too, but there’s a reason. My buddy Eddie had one eardrum blown out while he was in Afghanistan, and we turn up the music so that he can hear.”
I try to shrug casually.
“It’s okay. Next time, just leave a note or something, and I’ll stay out of your hair. That way you can listen to music as loud as you like, blown out eardrums or not.”
Ross takes another long swig of his beer. How many drinks did he have before coming home? His words are getting slower with every sip, so he’s probably getting closer and closer to being full-on drunk. I’ve only taken a couple sips of my own beer because I’m worried about what I might do if I let myself lose control. I have a feeling it would involve me nude, wet and hot come morning.
He turns to me again with a glimmer of a smile on his lips.
“So, tell me, what do you do with a library degree? Become a librarian?”
Surprisingly, the way Ross asks the question doesn’t appear condescending. It’s almost like he genuinely wants to know the answer, but I chalk that up to the alcohol.
“Funny you’d ask. I’m hoping to go to grad school after I finish my degree next year. Then, I’m hoping to get a job as a librarian at a public library with great children and teen sections so that I can provide reading materials to kids and young adults.”
“Nice,” he says, nodding in approval. “That sounds pretty awesome, to be honest. Everyone loves their local librarian,” he adds with a cheeky grin.
I blush again.
“Did you always know you wanted to be um, a tattoo person?” I ask a little lamely.
He lifts his bottle to his lips, giving me ample time to check out the artwork on his arm. Until now, I’d thought it was a bunch of disconnected pieces, but up close, I can see a full sleeve dedicated to what looks like a black and white Roman landscape. I recognize some of the more obvious architectural designs.
“No, actually. I was always interested in art, but I figured I’d work in a regular medium like oil paints or watercolor. It was a surprise to everyone, myself mostly, when I became a tattoo artist,” he says
wryly.
I stare at him.
“Really? You were going to be a painter at one point?”
He shrugs.
“Yep. I even have the BFA to prove it. But while I was in school, I became friends with a guy who was a tattoo artist, who saw some of my artwork. He suggested that I re-do them as tattoo designs, and before I knew it, people were commissioning me to paint their skin. It happened fast,” he says.
I’m impressed.
“I didn’t know you had a BFA. You didn’t mention that during our interview,” I say.
He grins.
“Why, would it have made a difference? I’m still a tattoo artist, and not a doctor with a million letters behind my name.”
I stammer.
“Of course not, but –”
“I just don’t look like the type of guy with a degree, do I?” he says with a wry smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I get it all the time.”
I swallow, feeling bad. I never meant to imply that Ross was an uneducated, unintelligent person. I was genuinely surprised when he said he had a degree, and he has me curious.
“Will you at least show me all of your tattoos?” I ask, trying to get my brain back on track. I shouldn’t be staring at my gorgeous roommate like this. It’s a terrible idea. Ross takes a long sip of his beer, and I watch as his bronzed throat swallows, my eyes eating up every inch of his broad shoulders and strong arms. He turns to grin at me.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Oh no. What do I do now?
To be continued …
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About the Author
S.E. Law loves writing about bad boys. In fact, since high school, she’s been studying bad boys with a keen and observant eye: the lovers, the fighters, and the ones that make you go “Ohhhh …” She enjoys writing books that will hopefully make you go “Ohhhh …” over and over again, while also getting some laughs (and maybe even some tears).
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